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LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 



-^"^ 




THE AUTHOR CONSULTING HER BROTHER 



Last of the Great Scouts 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



COL. WILLIAM F. CODY 



("BUFFALO BILL") 



AS TOLD BY HIS SISTER 



HELEN CODY WETMORE 



W\ 



31808 

COPYRIGHT, 1899 



THE UNITED STATES, GREAT BRITAIN AND FRANCE 

BY 

HELEN CODY WETMORE 



MM I a 1899 J) 



THE DUI,UTH PRESS PRINTING CO. 

LUIvUTII, MINN., U.S.A. 

Publishers 






2DeMcate&, 

TO THE MEMORY OF A 

SAINTED MOTHER, 

WHOvSE CHRISTIAN CHARACTER 

STILL LIVES A HALLOWED 

INFLUENCE. 



PREFACE. 

In presenting this volume to the public, the writer has a 
two-fold purpose. For a number of years there has been 
an increasing demand for an authentic biography of " Buf- 
falo Bill," and in response, many books of varying value 
have been submitted, yet no one of them has borne the 
hall-mark of veracious history. Naturally, there were inci- 
dents in Colonel Cody's life — more especially in the earlier 
years — that could be given only by those with whom he 
had grown up from childhood. For many incidents of his 
later life I am indebted to his own and others' accounts. 
I desire to acknowledge obligation to General P. H. Sheri- 
dan, Colonel Inman, Colonel Ingraham and my brother, 
for valuable assistance furnished by Sheridan's Memoirs, 
"The Santa F^ Trail," "The Great Salt Lake Trail," 
"Buffalo Bill's Autobiography," and "Stories From the 
Life of Buffalo Bill." 

A second reason that prompted the writing of Colonel 
Cody's life-story is purely personal. The sobriquet of 
" Buflfalo Bill " has conveyed to many people an impression 
of his personality that is far removed from the facts. They 
have pictured in fancy a rough frontier character, without 
tenderness and true nobility. But in very truth has the 
poet sung : 

" The bravest are the tenderest — 
The loving are the daring." 

The public knows Colonel Cody as a boy Indian slayer, 
a champion buffalo hunter, a brave soldier, a daring scout, 
an intrepid frontiersman and a famous exhibitor. It is only 

V 



VI PREFACE. 

fair to him that a glimpse be given of the parts he played 
behind the scenes : devotion to a widowed mother that 
pushed the boy so early upon a stage of ceaseless action, 
continued care and tenderness displayed in later years, and 
the generous thoughtfulness of manhood's prime. 

Thus, a part of my pleasant task has been to enable the 
public to see my brother through his sister's eyes — eyes 
that have seen truly, if kindly. If I have been tempted 
into praise where simple narrative might, to the reader, 
seem all that was required ; if I have seemed to exaggerate 
in any of my history's details, I may say that I am not con- 
scious of having set down more than " a plain, unvarnished 
tale." Embarrassed with riches of fact, I have had no 
thought of fiction. 

H. C. W. 
Codyview, Duluth, Minnesota, 
February 26, 1899. 



CONTENTS. 



Preface 



CHAPTER I. 

The Old Homestead in Iowa — Death of Samuel Cody — A Strange 
Prophecy and its Fulfilment — The Migration to Kansas— First 
Night in Camp, and Will's First Deer — The Rescue of Turk— An 
African Apparition — Temporary Stop in Missouri 

CHAPTER II. 

Will's First Indian— A Horse Trade Spoiled— The Great Overland 
Trail — The Kansas-Nebraska Bill— The Home in Kansas — Two 
Babes, a Dog and a Panther — The Fearless Fidelity of Turk — 
Will to the Rescue 



CHAPTER III. 

The Shadow of Partisan Strife — Father's Political Standing — The 
Meeting at Rively's — Father Avows His Free State Sympathies, 
and is Struck Down — Beginning of the Persecution— Ruffian 
Visitors — The Flight to Doniphan — Col. Jim Lane and His Band 
of Avengers — Father's Return 13 

[CHAPTER IV. 

Persecution Continues — The Adventures of Mr. Sharpe — A Night 
Attack — Outwitted by a Woman — The Sawmill at Grasshopper 
Falls — W^ill Takes the Road — The Ambush at Big Stranger's 
Creek — A Ride to Save a Father's Life — The Le Compton Legis- 
lature — Ohio Emigrants — Death of Isaac Cody 19 

vii 



VI 11 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER V. 

An Ucjust Claim— Will Sigts a Pledge— The " Boy Extra " of the 
Bull-Train — Attacked by Indians — The Flight by the River — 
Will's First Dead Indian — Arrival at Fort Kearney — The Wreck 
of the Bull-Train 26 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Lawsuit — Lawyer Douglass's Plea — Arrival of the Missing Wit- 
ness — Sister Martha's Wedding — The Germ of the Wild West 
Show — An Experience with Hard Cider — Off for Fort Bridger — 
Raided by Danites — Winter Quarters and Short Rations 34 

CHAPTER VII. 

Hemmed in by Indians — The Dead-Mule Barricade — A Dream that 
Saved Three Lives — Sister Martha's Death — Will Goes to 
School — Turk's Rescue of His Master — The Fight with Steve 
Gobel — Off for the Plains Again 41 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The Valley Grove House — A Trapping Expedition and a Brush with 
Indians — A Cave of Horrors — The Death and Burial of Turk — A 
Mild Attack of Gold Fever — Will as a Pony Express Rider ...51 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Pony Express is " Held Up " — Another Trapping Expedition — 
Fight with a Bear — A Broken Leg — Alone in the Dugout — An 
Indian Visit and a Touch of Auld Lang Syne — A Desperate Sit- 
uation — An Eleventh-Hour Rescue — Home Again — Death of 
Dave Phillips 61 

CHAPTER X. 

Echoes from Sumter — A Station on the Underground Railway — 
Uncle Tom and his Sufferings — Will Drops his First Buffalo, and 
Saves a Life — With the Pony Express Again — California Joe — 
Indian Troubles— Wild Bill 68 



CONTENTS. IX 

CHAPTER XI. 

The Work of the " Black Water," and the Retribution— A Short but 
Dashing Indian Campaign — A Bear Hunt without a Bear — In a 
Den of Horse Thieves — What came of Picking up Sage Hens — 
Government Freighting 76 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Mother's Last Illness — Her Charge to the Writer — L,ast Message 

for Will and Julia — Her Death 84 

CHAPTER XIII. 

A Frontier Funeral — OflF to the War — Will as Dispatch Bearer — An 
Ambuscade that Failed — Death of Ed. Norcross — An Economi- 
cal Administrator and a Lesson in Economy — Will Reports for 
"Secret Service" — A Perilous Mission 88 

CHAPTER XIV. 

The Role of a Spy — In the Lion's Den — A Ride for Life — Indian 
Trouble on the Old Santa Fe Trail— Will's First Big Battle- 
Wild Bill Again — Bread Cast Upon the Waters — Colonel Hickok" s 
Daring Dash 98 

CHAPTER XV. 

A St. Louis Detail— The Fair Equestrienne — A Rescue and a Be- 
trothal — The Overland Stage Route — Will as a Driver — Another 
Race for Life — Turnabout at "Holding Up" is Fair Play . . . icg 

CHAPTER XVL 

The Wedding— Will Turns Landlord — First Effort as au Individual 
Freighter and its Disastrous Ending — Scouting at Fort Fletcher 
— The Meeting with General Custer— The Mouse-Colored Mule — 
A Voice in the Night — "The Colored Troops Fight Nobly" — 
The City of Rome 120 



X CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Kow the Sobriquet of " Buffalo Bill " Was Won— The Remarkable 
Performances of Brigham and Lucretia Borgia — A Contest of 
Skill in Buffalo Hunting — Will Returns to Scouting — A Danger- 
ous Ride — A Tricky Mule, and What Happened to It 134 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Satanta.Chief of the Kiowas— Scout Cody is Captured and Tomahawked 
" for a Joke" — A Stern Chase — One Way of Bringing Meat into 
Camp — General Carr's Expedition — A Big Battle with the Red- 
skins 142 

CHAPTER XIX. 

At Fort McPherson — Pawnee Scouts — "Buckskin Joe" — The Cam- 
paign Against the Sioux — The Stand in the Ravine — A Long 
Shot, and the Fall of Tall Bull— His Widow's Sentiments ... 151 

CHAPTER XX. 

Army Life at Foil McPherson — A Buffalo Hunt, and What Came of 
It — "William F. Cody, Justice of the Peace" — The Beacon on 
the Hill-top — Ned Buntline — The Sioux Legend of the Creation 
— The Great Spirit's Masterpiece 157 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Another Marriage — A Lodge in the Wilderness — An Indian Raid and 
the Death of Little John — Frontier Banking — A Mirage — Smoked 
Out — General Duncan's Expedition — Distinguished Visitors— A 
Visit to Spotted Tail 167 

CHAPTER XXII. 

The Hunt of the Grand Duke Alexis— A Ride to be Remembered — 
Journey to the East — A Call for a Dramatic Hero — Social Obli- 
gations — Will Plays Lucullus, and is Staggered by the Cost 
Thereof — A Visit to Pennsylvania Relatives i'/6 



CONTENTS. XI 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Stolen Horses — Will is Elected to the Nebraska Legislature — A 
Theatrical Venture — Remarkable Performance of "The Scout 
of the Plains" — Wild Bill Grows Restless — Will Organizes a 
Theatrical Company of his Own — Death of Kit Carson Cody , . 183 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

The Sioux Uprising of '76 — Sitting Bull the Cause of the War — 
Custer's Campaign — The Fifth Cavalry's Brush with Cheyennes — 
A Prairie Duel — The Sioux War on the Mimic Stage — "Scouts 
Rest Ranch" — An Oasis in the Desert 192 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Literary Work — Colonel Cody's Autobiography — Guests at North 
Platte— A Deer Hunt— Why the Fawn Went Free— The Ranch 
on the Dismal River — Nine Days Camp in the Foothills — An 
Estimate of Colonel Cody's Success as an Actor 200 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

First Visit to the Valley of the Big Horn — An Indian Description of 
Eithity Tugala, the Ijis of the Red Man — Colonel Cody's Account 
of the Beauties of the Big Horn Basin — The Haunted Lake — The 
Commands of the Great Spirit from an Indian Point of View . 210 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

Organization of the "Wild West Show" — Opening at Omaha — Tour 
of Great Britain — Spectacular Effects — In London — Luncheon in 
Honor of Gladstone — Patronage of Royalty — The Queen's Salute 
to the American flag — The Deadwood Coach — Indian Breakfasts 
— Homeward Bound 218 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Return of the Wild West Show to America — A Letter from W. T. 
Sherman — The Season on Staten Island — An Invitation to Lead 
in Prayer — Off for Europe Again — The Sojourn in Paris — Rosa 
Bonheur — Pope Leo's Anniversary — The Cowboys Show the Ital- 
ians Some Points in Horse Taming — Tour of Germany .... 229 



Xll CONTENTS, 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

Return to America — The Sioux Uprising of '91 — Influence Exerted 
Over the Indians by the Wild West Show — Will's Opinion of 
General Miles — Banquet in Honor of the General — Burning of 
"Welcome Wigwam" — Back to Europe — End of the Foreign 
Tour 237 

CHAPTER XXX. 

A. Thousand Miles in the Saddle with " Buffalo Bill " — " The Garden 
of the Gods" — Preparations for the World's Fair — " The Con- 
gress of Rough Riders" — Newspaper Enterprise in Duluth — 
Cody Sanatorium 243 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

•' The Tented City " — An Incident in a Boston Hospital— The Wild 
W^est Visits North Platte — Cody Day at the Omaha Exposition — 
A Reunion of Pioneers 250 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

The Taming of the Wild West — Grass-Grown Trails and Hoary Land- 
marks — The Trails of Steel— Old and New Modes of Travel Con- 
trasted—The Buffalo— The Indian— The " Last of the Scouts " . 261 



LIST OF FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. 

The Author Consulting Her Brother. Frontispiece. 

FACING PAOE 

The Old Cody Homestead in Iowa 34 

The Famous "Leather Stocking " of Romance Becomes 

A Ten-Year-Old Reality 46 

"Will Guarding His Sick Father's Life . . . -58 
- A Sick Boy's Desperate Ride to Save a Father's Life . 70 
Nine-Year-Old Will Cody Asking Mr. Majors for Work 84 
^ Novel and Narrow Escape FROM an Indian Attack . 96 
" Little Billy Cody " Kills His First Indian . .110 

Lively Stampede from the Cave of Horrors . . .122 
Will Rescues His Helpless Comrade from a Wounded 

Bear 136 

Visiting His Father's Grave 148 

A Deadly Encounter with Horse Thieves . . . 162 
Will Becomes One of the Gallant Boys in Blue . . i74 
"Scout's Rest Ranch " — North Platte, Nebraska . 188 
, Cedar Mountain Canon — Big Horn Basin, Near the 

Town of Cody, Wyoming 202 

Colonel Cody's Famous Old War Horse, "Charlie" . 214 
"Welcome Wigwam" — Colonel Cody's Residence at 

North Platte, Nebraska 226 

"Cody Day" at the Trans-Mississippi Exposition, 
Omaha— Buffalo Bill's Wild West Parade Leav- 
ing Madison Square Garden, 1899 .... 240 
Last of the Great Scouts 261 



Thirty-Two Initial Illustrations. 



xiu 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 



CHAPTER I. 

THE OLD HOMESTEAD IN IOWA — DEATH OF SAMUEL CODY — 
A STRANGE PROPHECY AND ITS FULFILMENT — THE 
MIGRATION TO KANSAS — FIRST NIGHT IN CAMP, AND 
will's first DEER — THE RESCUE OF TURK — AN AFRICAN 
APPARITION — TEMPORARY STOP IN MISSOURI. 

PLEASANT, roomy farmhouse, 
set in the sunHght against a 
background of cool, green wood 
and mottled meadow — this is 
the picture that my earliest 
memories frame for me. 

Isaac and Mary Cody, my 
parents, had settled in Daven- 
port, Iowa, after their marriage. 
Shortly afterward the family 
moved to a farm near the little 
town of LeClair, and at this 
place — the farmhouse in the 
dancing sunshine, with a back- 
ground of wood and meadow — my brother, William F. Cody, 
was born on the 26th day of February, 1846. 

Of the good old-fashioned sort was our family, numbering 
five daughters and two sons — Martha, Samuel, Julia, William, 
Eliza, Helen and May. Samuel, a lad of unusual beauty of 
face and nature, was killed through an unhappy accident 
before he was yet fourteen. 

No doubt old settlers in Iowa will remember ' ' Betsy 
Baker," a mare of speed and pedigree, but displaying at times 
a most malevolent temper. Upon one fateful day Samuel was 

I 




2 LAST OF THE (iREAT SCOUTS. 

riding Betsy, accompanied by Will, who, though only seven 
years of age, yet sat his pony with the ease and grace that 
distinguished the veteran rider of the future. Presently Betsy 
Baker became fractious, and sought to throw her rider. In 
vain did she rear and plunge; he kept his saddle. Then, 
seemingly, she gave up the fight, and Samuel cried in boyish 
exultation: 

"Ah, Betsy Baker, you didn't quite come it that time!" 

His last words! As if she knew her rider was a careless 
victor off his guard, the mare reared suddenly and flung her- 
self upon her back, crushing the daring boy beneath her. 

Though to us younger children our brother Samuel was but 
a shadowy memor}', in him had fondly centered our parents' 
hopes and aims. These, naturally, were transferred to the 
younger, now the only, son, and the hope that mother, espe- 
cially, held for him was strangely stimulated by the remem- 
brance of the mystic divination of a soothsa3'er in the years 
agone. My mother was a woman of too much intelligence 
and force of character to nourish an average superstition; but 
prophecies fulfilled will temper, though they may not shake 
the smiling unbelief of the most hard-headed skeptic. 
Mother's moderate skepticism was not proof against the 
strange fulfilment of one prophecy, which fell out in this 
wise: 

To a Southern city, which my mother, then a young girl, 
was visiting with a brother's wife, there came a celebrated for- 
tune-teller, and, led by curiosity solely, my mother and my 
aunt one day made two of the crowd that thronged the sibyl's 
drawing-rooms. 

Both received with laughing incredulity the prophecy that 
my aunt and the two children with her would be dead in a fort- 
night; but the dread augury was fulfilled to the letter, for all 
three were stricken with yellow fever, and died within less 
than the time set. This startling confirmation of the sooth- 
sayer's divining powers not unnaturally affected my mother's 
belief in that part of the prophecy relating to herself — that 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 3 

" she would meet her future husband on the steamboat by 
which she expected to return home ; that she would be mar- 
ried to him in a year, and bear three sons, of whom only the 
second would live, but that the name of this son would be 
known all over the world, and would one day be that of the 
President of the United States. ' ' The first part of this prophecy 
was verified, and Samuel's death was another link between past 
and future ; was it, then, strange that mother looked with un- 
usual hope upon her second son ? 

That 'tis good fortune for a boy to be only brother to five 
sisters is open to question. The older girls petted Will ; the 
younger regarded him as a superior being ; while to all it 
seemed so fit and proper that the promise of the stars concern- 
ing his future should be kept, that never for a moment did we 
weaken in our belief that great things were in store for our 
only brother. We looked for the prophecy's complete fulfil- 
ment, and with childish veneration regarded Will as one des- 
tined to sit in the Executive's chair. 

My mother, always somewhat delicate, was so affected in 
health by the shock of Samuel's death that a change of scene 
was advised. The California gold craze was then at its apogee, 
and father caught the fever, though in a mild form ; for he had 
prospered as a farmer, and we not only had a comfortable home, 
but were in easy circumstances. Influenced in part by a desire 
to improve mother's health, and in part, no doubt, by the 
golden day-dreams that lured so many Argonauts Pacificward, 
he disposed of his farm and bade us prepare for a Western 
journey ; but before his plans attained to completion he fell in 
with certain disappointed goldseekers returning from the 
Coast and impressed by their representations, decided for 
Kansas instead of California. 

Our equipment for the journey surpassed that of the average 
emigrant. In addition to the three prairie schooners, contain- 
ing our household goods, we owned a roomy family carriage, 
in which mother and daughters rode. Brother Will, possessor 
of the three things dearest to the heart of a boy — dog, horse, 



4 LAST OP* THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

and gun — constituted himself our bodyguard, riding beside us 
upon his pony, with his gun across his saddle, and the dog 
trotting behind. To Will, this Western trip thrilled with pos- 
sible Indian skirmishes and other stirring adventures, though 
of the real dangers that lay in our path he did not dream. For 
him, therefore, the first week of our travels held no great 
interest, for we were constantly chancing upon settlers and farm- 
houses, in which the night might be passed ; but with every mile 
the settlers grew fewer and farther between, until one day Will 
whispered to us, in great glee : " I heard father tell mother 
that he expected we should have to camp to-night. Now 
we'll have some fun ! " 

Will's hope was well founded. Shortly before nightfall we 
reached a stream that demanded a ferryboat for its crossing, 
and as the nearest dwelling was a dozen miles away, it was 
decided that we should camp by the streamside. The family 
was first sent across the ferry, and upon the eight-year-old 
lad of the house father placed the responsibility of selecting the 
ground to pitch the tents on. 

My brother's career forcibly illustrates the fact that environ- 
ment plays as large a part as heredity in shaping character. 
Perhaps his love for the free life of the plains is a heritage 
derived from some long-gone ancestor ; but there can be no 
doubt that to the earlier experiences of which I am writing he 
owed his ability as a scout. The faculty for obtaining water, 
striking trails, and finding desirable camping grounds, in him 
seemed almost instinct. 

The tents being pitched upon a satisfactory site, Will called 
to Turk, the dog, and, rifle in hand, set forth in search of game 
for supper. He was successful beyond his fondest hopes. He 
had looked only for small game, but scarcely had he put the 
camp behind him when Turk gave a signaling yelp, and out of 
the bushes bounded a magnificent deer. Nearly every hunter 
will confess to " buck fever " at sight of his first deer, .so it is 
not strange that a boy of Will's age should have stood immov- 
able, staring dazedly at the graceful animal until it vanished 



LAST OF THE GRKAT SCOUTS. 5 

from sight, Turk gave chase, but soon trotted back and 
barked reproachfull)' at his young master. But Will presently 
had an opportunity to recover Turk's good opinion, for the 
dog, after darting away, with another signaling yelp, fetched 
another fine stag within gun range. This time the young 
hunter mastered his nerves, took aim with steady hand, and 
brought down his first deer. 

Upon the following Sabbath we were again camped by the 
bank of a deep, swift-running stream, across which Turk, 
wearied and heated by a rabbit chase, attempted to swim, but 
the water chilled him, and he would have perished had not 
Will hastened to the rescue without a second's hesitation. The 
ferryman, in his turn, seeing an eight-year-old boy opposing 
the rapid current, sprang for his boat and sculled after him. 
Will succeeded in reaching the other shore, and the comment 
of the ferryman was : 

" You're a fool, boy, to risk your life in swimming a stream 
like this !" 

" But I couldn't let my dog drown ! " cried Will, surprised 
that anyone should call into question so plain a fact. 

" Well," said the ferryman, smiling grimly, " you're gritty, 
anyway. You ought to make your mark in the world. ' ' And 
he took boy and dog into his boat for the return trip. 

Turk plays so conspicuous and important a part in our early 
lives that he deserves a brief description. He was a large and 
powerful animal, part bull and, all prejudice aside, one of the 
most sagacious and devoted of the canine tribe. We regarded 
him as our best friend when we set forth on our pilgrimage ; 
and when, in later days, his fidelity and almost human intelli- 
gence were repeatedly the means of saving life and property, 
we installed him as a member of the family — ever faithful, 
loyal, and ready to lay down his life in our service. He was 
none the worse for his plunge in the river, and his gratitude to 
Will was attended by added devotion. Outlaws and desperadoes 
were always to be met with on Western trails in those rugged 
days, and more than once Turk's constant vigilance warned 



6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

father in season to protect the camp from attack by suspicious 
night-prowlers. 

Indeed, this trip was memorable for all of us, perhaps espe- 
cially so for brother Will, for it comprehended not only his first 
deer, but his first negro. 

As we drew near the Missouri line we came upon a comfort- 
able farmhouse, at which father made inquiry concerning a 
lodging for the night. A widow lived there, and the informa- 
tion that father was brother to Elijah Cody, of Platte County, 
Missouri, won us a cordial welcome and the hospitality of her 
home. 

We were yet in the road, waiting father's report, when our 
startled vision and childish imagination took in a seeming 
apparition, which glided from the bushes by the wayside. 

It proved a full-blooded African, with thick lips, woolly 
hair, enormous feet and scant attire. To all except mother 
this was a new revelation of humanity, and we stared in wild- 
eyed wonder ; even Turk was surprised into silence. At this 
point father rejoined us, to share in mother's amusement and 
to break the spell for us by pleasantly addressing the negro, 
who returned a respectful answer, accompanied by an ample 
grin. He was a slave on the widow's plantation. 

Reassured by the grin, Will offered his hand, and tasted the 
joy of being addressed as " Massa " in the talk that followed. 
It was with difficulty that we prevailed upon ' ' Massa ' ' to 
come to supper. 

After a refreshing night's sleep we went on our way, and in 
a few days reached my uncle's home. A rest v»'as welcome, as 
the journey had been long and toilsome, despite the fact that 
it had been enlivened by many interesting incidents and wa*- 
thoroughly enjoyed by all of the family. 



CHAPTER II. 

will's first INDIAN — A HORSE TRADE SPOILED — THE GREAT 
OVERLAND TRAIL — THE KANSAS-NEBRASKA BILL — THE 
HOME IN KANSAS — TWO BABES, A DOG AND A PANTHER 
— THE FEARLESS FIDELITY OF TURK — WILL TO THE 
RESCUE. 



Y uncle's home was in Wes- 
ton, Platte County, Missouri, 
at that time the large city of 
the West. As father was de- 
sirous of settling again as soon 
as possible, he left us at Wes- 
ton, and after resting a bit, 
himself crossed the Missouri 
River on a prospecting tour, 
accompanied by Will and a 
guide. More than one day 
went by in the quest for a de- 
sirable location, and one morn- 
ing Will, wearied in the rec- 
onnaissance, and not yet rested from our former journey, was 
left asleep at the night's camping-place, while father and the 
guide rode away to the day's exploring. 

When Will opened his eyes they fell upon the most interest- 
ing object that the world just then could offer him — an Indian ! 
The " noble red man," as he has been poetically termed by 
people who have but known him from afar, was in the act of 
mounting Will's horse, while near by stood his own, a miser- 
able, scrawny beast. 

7 




8 LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 

Will's boyish dreams were now a reality ; he looked upon 
his first Indian. Here, too, was a "buck"; not a graceful, 
vanishing deer, but a dirty redskin who seemingly was in some 
hurry to begone. Without a trace of "buck fever," Will 
jumped up, rifle in hand, and demanded : 

" Here, what are you doing with my horse?" 

The Indian regarded the lad with contemptuous composure. 

" Me swap horses with pale-face boy," said he. 

The red man was fully armed, and Will did not know whether 
his father and the guide were within call or not ; but to suffer 
the Indian to ride away with Uncle Elijah's fine horse was to 
forfeit his father's confidence and to shake his mother's and 
sisters' belief in the family hero, so he put a bold face upon 
the matter, and remarked carelessly, as if discussing a genuine 
transaction : 

"No; I won't swap." 

" Pale-face boy fool !" returned the Indian, serenely. 

Now this was scarcely the main point at issue, so Will con- 
tented himself with replying quietly but firmly : 

' ' You cannot take my horse. ' ' 

The Indian condescended to temporize. ' ' Pale- face horse 
no good," said he. 

" Good enough for me," replied Will, smiling despite the 
gravity of the situation. The Indian shone rather as a liar 
than a judge of horse-flesh. " Good enough for me ; so you 
can take your old rack of bones and go. ' ' 

Much to Will's surprise, the red man dropped the rein, flung 
himself upon his own pony, and made off. And down fell 
' ' lyO the poor Indian ' ' from the exalted niche that he had 
filled in Will's esteem, for while it was bad in a copper hero 
to steal horses, it was worse to flee from a boy not yet in his 
teens. But a few moments later L,o went back to his lofty 
niche, for Will heard the guide's voice, and realized that it 
was the sight of a man, and not the threats of a boy, that had 
sent the Indian about his business — if he had any. 

After a search of nearly a week father had come upon a spot 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 9 

tliat seemed to him almost au earthly paradise, and to fetch 
Will to it was the errand of the guide. 

There were at this time two great highways of Western 
travel ; later the Oregon Trail came into prominence. The old 
historic route, known as the Santa Fe Trail, was the route fol- 
lowed by explorers three hundred years ago. It had been used 
by Indian tribes from time, to white men, immemorial. At 
the beginning of this century it was first used as an artery of 
commerce. Over it Zebulon Pike made his well-known Western 
trip, and from it radiated his explorations. The trail lay 
some distance south of Leavenworth. It ran westward, dip- 
ping slightly to the south until the Arkansas River was 
reached ; then following the course of this stream to Bent's 
Fort, it crossed the river and turned sharply to the south. It 
went through Raton Pass, and below Las Vegas it turned west 
to Santa Fe. ^^ 

Exploration along the line of the Salt Lake Trail began also 
with this century. It became a beaten highway at the time of 
the Mormon exodus from Nauvoo to their present place of 
abode. The trail crossed the Missouri River at Leavenworth, 
and ran northerly to the Platte, touching that stream at Fort 
Kearney. With a few variations it paralleled the Platte to its 
junction vv^ith the Sweetwater, and left this river valley to run 
through South Pass to big Sandy Creek, turning south to fol- 
low this little stream. At Fort Bridger it turned westward 
again, passed Echo Canon, and, a few miles farther on, ran 
into Salt Lake City. Over this trail journeyed thousands of 
gold-hunters toward California, hopeful and high-spirited on 
the westerly way, disappointed and depressed, the large majority 
of them, on the back track. Freighting outfits, cattle trains, 
emigrants — nearly all the western travel — followed this track 
across the new land. ^ A man named Rivxly, with the gift of 
grasping the advantage of location, had obtained permission to 
establish a trading post on this trail three miles beyond the 
Missouri, and as proximity to this depot of supplies was a 
manifest convenience, father selected a claim two miles dis- 



lO LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

tant, iu the picturesque Salt Creek Vallej^ now in Leaven- 
worth County, Kansas. 

The Kansas-Nebraska Bill, which provided for the organiz- 
ing of those two territories and opened them for settlement, 
was passed in May, 1854. This bill directly opposed the 
Missouri Compromise, which restricted slavery to all territory 
south of 36° 30" north latitude. A clause in the new bill pro- 
vided that the settlers should decide for themselves whether 
the new territories were to be free or slave states. Already 
hundreds of settlers were camped upon the banks of the Mis- 
souri, waiting the passage of the bill before entering and 
acquiring possession of the land. Across the curtain of the 
night ran a broad ribbon of dancing camp-fires, stretching for 
miles along the bank of the river. 

None too soon had father fixed upon his claim ; the act 
allowing settlers to enter was passed in less than a week after- 
ward. Besides the pioneers intending actual settlement, a 
great rush was made into the territories by members of both 
political parties. These became the gladiators, with Kansas 
the arena, for a bitter, bloody contest between those desiring 
and those opposing the extension of slave territory. 

Having already decided upon his location, father was among 
the first, after the bill was passed, to file a claim and procure 
the necessary papers, and shortly he had a transient abiding 
place prepared for us. Whatever mother may have thought of 
the one-roomed cabin, whose chinks let in the sun by day and 
the moon and stars by night, and whose carpet was Nature's 
greenest velvet, life in it was a perennial picnic for the children. 
Meantime father was at work on our permanent home, and 
before the summer fled we were domiciled in a large double- 
log house — rough and primitive, but solid and comfort- 
breeding. 

This same autumn held an episode so deeply graven in my 
memory that time has not blurred a line of it. Jane, our 
faithful maid-of-all-work, who went with us to our Western 
home, had little time to play the governess. Household 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOOTS. II 

duties claimed her every waking hour, as mother was delicate, 
and the family a large one, so Turk ofiSciated as both guar- 
dian and playmate of the children. 

One golden September day Eliza and I set out after wild 
flowers, accompanied by Turk and mother's caution not to 
stray too far, as wild beasts, 'twas said, lurked in the neigh- 
boring forest ; but the prettiest flowers were always just 
beyond, and we wandered afield until we reached a fringe of 
timber half a mile from the house, where we tarried under the 
trees. Meantime mother grew alarmed, and Will was dis- 
patched after the absent tots. 

Turk, as we recalled, had sought to put a check upon our 
wanderings, and when we entered the woods his restlessness 
increased. Suddenly he began to paw up the carpet of dry 
leaves, and a few moments later the shrill scream of a panther 
echoed through the forest aisles. 

Eliza was barely six years old, and I was not yet four. We 
clung to each other in voiceless terror. Then from afar came 
a familiar whistle — Will's call to his dog. That heartened 
us, babes as we were, for was not our brother our reliance in 
every emergency ? Rescue was at hand ; but Turk continued 
tearing up the leaves, after signaling his master with a loud 
bark. Then, pulling at our dresses, he indicated the refuge 
he had dug for us. Here we lay down and the dog covered 
us with the leaves, dragging to the heap, as a further screen, 
a large dead branch. Then, with the heart of a lion, he put 
himself on guard. 

From our leafy covert we could see the panther's tawny 
form come gliding through the brush. He saw Turk and 
crouched for a spring. This came as an arrow, but Turk 
dodged it ; and then, with a scream such as I never heard 
from dog before or since, our defender hurled himself upon 
the foe- 

Turk was powerful and his courage was flawless, but he 
was no match for the panther: in a few moments the faithful 
dog lay stunned and bleeding from one stroke of the forest- 



12 LAST OF THE GRKAT SCOUTvS. 

rover's steel-shod paw. The cruel beast had scented other 
prey, and dismissing Turk, he paced to and fro, seeking to 
locate us. We scarce dared to breathe, and every throb of 
our frightened little hearts was a prayer that "Will would come 
to us in time. 

At last the panther's roving eyes rested upon our inadequate 
hiding place, and as he crouched for the deadly leap we hid 
our faces. 

The helpless, hopeless ordeal of agony was broken by a 
rifle's sharp report. The panther fell, shot through his savage 
heart, and out from the screen of leaves rushed two sobbing, 
h5'sterical little girls with pallid faces drowned in tears, who 
clung about a brother's neck and were shielded in his arms. 

Will, himself but a child, caressed and soothed us in a most 
paternal fashion ; and when the storm of sobs was passed we 
turned to Turk. Happily his injuries were slight, and he had 
recovered consciousness when his master reached him. 

' ' Bravo ! Good dog ! " cried Will . ' ' You saved them , Turk ! 
You saved them! " And kneeling beside our faithful friend, 
he put his arms about the shaggy neck. 

Dear old Turk! If there be a land beyond the sky for such 
as thou, may the snuggest corner and best of bones be thy 
reward! 



CHAPTER III. 

THK SHADOW OF PARTISAN STRIFE — FATHER'S POI,ITICAL 
STANDING — THB MEETING AT RIVEI^Y's — FATHER AVOWS 
HIS FREE STATE SYMPATHIES AND IS STRUCK DOWN — 
BEGINNING OF THE PERSECUTION — RUFFIAN VISITORS — 
THE FLIGHT TO DONIPHAN — COL. JIM LANE AND HIS 
BAND OF AVENGERS — FATHER'S RETURN. 



WING to the conditions under 
which Kansas was settled, al- 
ready spoken of, all classes 
were represented in its popu- 
lation. Honest, thrifty farm- 
ers and well-to-do traders leav- 
ened a lump of shiftless ne'er- 
do-wells, lawless adventurers 
and vagabonds of all sorts and 
conditions. If father at times 
questioned the wisdom of the 
step that took us to this new 
and untried land, he kept his 
own counsel, and set a brave 
face against the future. 

He had stood prominent in political circles in Iowa, and had 
filled positions of public trust ; but he had no wish to become 
involved in the partisan strife that raged in Kansas. He was 
a Free Soil man, and there were but two others in that section 
that did not believe in slavery. For a year he kept his opin- 
ions to himself, but it became rumored about that he was an 
able public speaker, and the Pro-Slavery men naturally ascribed 
to him the same opinions as those held by his brother Elijah, 

13 




14 I.AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

a pronounced Pro-Slavery man ; so they regarded father as a 
promising leader in their cause. He had avoided the issue, 
and had skilfully contrived to escape declaring for one side or 
the other, but on the scroll of his destiny it was written that 
he should be one of the first victims offered on the sacrificial 
altar of the struggle for human liberty. 

Rively's store was a popular rendezvous for all the settlers 
round. It was a day in the summer of '55 that father visited 
the store, accompanied, as usual, by Will and Turk. Among 
the crowd, which was large and noisy with excitement, he 
noted a number of desperadoes in the Pro- Slavery faction, and 
noted, too, that Uncle Elijah and our two Free Soil neighbors, 
Mr. Hathaway and Mr. Lawrence, were present. 

Father's appearance was greeted by a clamor for a speech; 
but to speak before that audience was to take his life in his 
hands ; yet in spite of his excuses he was forced to the chair. 

It was written ! There was no escape ! Father walked 
steadily to the dry goods box which served as a rostrum. As 
he passed Mr. Hathaway the good old man plucked him by 
the sleeve and begged him to serve out platitudes to the crowd, 
and to screen his real sentiments. 

But father was not a man that dealt in platitudes. 

" Friends," said he, quietly, as he faced his audience and 
drew himself to his full height, " friends, you are mistaken in 
your man, I am sorry to disappoint you. I have no wish to 
quarrel with you. But you have forced me to speak, and I can 
I 60 no less than declare my real convictions. I am, and always 
nave been, opposed to slavery. It is an institution that not only 
degrades the slave, but brutalizes the slave-holder, and I pledge 
you my word that I shall use my best endeavors — yes, that I 
shall lay down my life, if need be — to keep this curse from 
finding lodgment upon Kansas soil. It is enough that the fair- 
est portions of our land are already infected with this blight. 
May it spread no farther. All my energy and my ability shall 
swell the effort to bring in Kansas as a Free Soil State. ' ' 

Up to this point the crowd had been so dumbfounded by his 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 15 

temerity that they kept an astonished silence. Now the storm 
broke. The rumble of angry voices swelled into a roar of fury. 
An angry mob surrounded the speaker ; ere men could inter- 
fere, several desperadoes leaped forward, and one, Charles 
Dunn by name, drove his knife to the hilt into the body of the 
brave man who dared thus openly to avow his principles. 

As father fell Will sprang to him, and turning to the mur- 
derous assailant, cried out in boyhood's fur}'- : 

" You have killed my father! When I'm a man I'll kill 
you for it !" 

The crowd slunk away, believing father dead. The deed 
appalled them ; they were not yet hardened to the lawlessness 
that was so soon to put the state to blush. 

Uncle Elijah, Rively, Mr. Hathaway, Mr. Lawrence and 
Will remained, and, finding father still alive, they planned to 
shield him for the moment, and later bear him home. First 
the muttering crowd must be dispersed, and Rively went out to 
rate them soundly for casting the odium of murder upon his 
store. "You've done mischief enough for one day," he cried 
angrily, " go home !" 

And they went, but so slowly that dusk came on before the 
coast was clear. Father's wounds had been staunched, but 
with the effort to move the blood flowed afresh. Mr. Hath- 
away and Will helped him to a hiding-place in the long grass 
by the wayside, and while the former went on to inform 
mother. Will and Turk remained to guard and cheer. Slowly 
and painfully the wounded man dragged himself homeward 
through the grass, marking his tortured progress with a trail 
of blood. 

It was such wild scenes as these that left their impress on 
the youth and fashioned the Cody of the later years — cool in 
emergency, fertile in resource, swift in decision, dashing and 
intrepid when the time for action came. 

Our troubles, alas! were but begun. Father had lost much 
blood, and his convalescence was long and tedious ; he never 
recovered fully. His enemies believed him dead, and for a 



1 6 LAST OF 'JIIK GREAT SCOUTS. 

while we kept the secret guarded ; but as soon as he was able 
to be about persecution began. 

About a month after the tragedy at Rively's Will ran in one 
evening with the warning that a band of horsemen were 
approaching. Suspecting trouble, mother put some of her 
own clothes about father, gave him a pail, and bade him hide 
in the cornfield. He walked boldly from the house and 
sheltered by the gathering dusk, succeeded in passing the 
horsemen unchallenged. The latter rode up to the house and 
dismounted. 

"Where's Cody?" asked the leader. He was informed 
that father was not at home. 

" Irucky for him!" was the frankly brutal rejoinder. 
" We'll make sure work of the killing next time." 

Disappointed in their main intention, the marauders 
revenged themselves in their own peculiar way by looting the 
house of every article that took their fancy ; then they sat 
down with the announced purpose of waiting the return of 
their prospective victim. 

Fearing the effect of the night air upon father, though it was 
yet summer, mother made a sign to Will, who slipped from the 
room and guided by Turk, carried blankets to the cornfield, 
returning before his absence had been remarked. The ruffians 
soon tired of waiting and rode away, after warning mother of 
the brave deed they purposed to perform. Father came in for 
the night, returning to his covert with the dawn. 

In expectation of some such raid, we had secreted a good 
stock of provisions ; but as soon as the day was up Will was 
dispatched to Rively's store to reconnoiter, under pretext of 
buying groceries. Keeping eyes and ears open, he learned 
that father's enemies were on the watch for him, so the corn- 
field must remain his screen. After several days the exposure 
and anxiety told on his strength. He decided to leave home 
and go to Fort Leavenworth, four miles distant. When night 
fell he returned to the house, packed a few needed articles, 
and bade us farewell. Will urged that he ride Prince, but he 



LAST OF THE GREAT vSCOUTS. 1 7 

regarded his journey as safer afoot. It was a sad parting. 
None of us knew whether we should see our father again. 

" I hope," he said to mother, " that these clouds will soon 
pass away, and that we may have a happy home once more." 
Then, placing his hands on Will's head, " You will have to be 
the man of the house until my return," he said. "But I 
know I can trust my boy to watch over his mother and 
sisters." 

With such responsibilities placed upon his shoulders, such 
confidence reposed in him, small wonder that Will should grow 
a man in thought and feeling before he grew to be one in years. 

Father reached Fort Leavenworth in safety, but the quarrel 
betwixt the Pro-Slavery Party and the Free Soilers waxed 
more bitter, and he decided that security lay farther on, so he 
took passage on an up-river boat to Doniphan, twenty miles 
distant. This was a mere landing-place, but he found a small 
band of men in camp cooking supper. They were part of Col. 
Jim L,ane's command, some three hundred strong, on their 
way west from Indiana. 

Colonel Lane was an interesting character. He had been a 
friend to Elijah Lovejoy, who was killed in 1836 for maintain- 
ing an Anti-Slavery newspaper in Illinois. The Kansas con- 
test speedily developed the fact that the actual settlers sent 
from the North by the emigrant aid societies would enable the 
Free State party to outnumber the ruffians sent in by the 
Southerners, and when the Pro-Slavery men were driven to 
substituting bullets for ballots. Colonel Lane recruited a band 
of hardy men to protect the Anti-Slavery settlers, and incident- 
ally to avenge the murder of Lovejoy. 

The meeting of father and Lane's men was a meeting of 
friends, and he chose to cast his lot with theirs. Shortly after- 
ward he took part in "The Battle of Hickory Point," in which 
the Pro-Slavery men were defeated with heavy loss, and 
thenceforward the name of Jim Lane was a terror to the lawless 
and a wall of protection to our family. 

The storm and stress of battle had drawn heavily on what 



l8 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

little strength was left to father, and relying for safety upon 
the proximity of Colonel I^ane and his men, he returned to us 
secretly by night, and was at once prostrated on a bed of 
sickness. 

This proved a serious strain upon our delicate mother, for 
during father's absence a little brother had been added to our 
home, and not only had she, in addition to the care of Baby 
Charlie, the nursing of a sick man, but she was constantly har- 
assed by apprehensions for his safety. 



CHAPTER IV. 



PERSSCUTION CONTINUKS — THE ADVENTURES OF MR. SHARPB 
— A NIGHT ATTACK — OUTWITTED BY A WOMAN — TH« 
SAWMILI, AT GRASSHOPPER FALLS — WILL TAKES THE 
ROAD — THE AMBUSH AT BIG STRANGER'S CREEK — A RIDE 
TO SAVE A FATHER'S LIFE — THE LE COMPTON LEGISLA- 
TURE — OHIO EMIGRANTS — DEATH OF ISAAC CODY. 

OTHER'S fears were well 
grounded. A few days after 
father's home-coming, a man 
named Sharpe, who disgraced 
the small ofl&ce of justice of 
the peace, rode up to our house 
very much the worse for liquor, 
and informed mother that his 
errand was to ' ' search the 
house for that abolition hus- 
band of yours. " As a prelimi- 
nary, the intoxicated ruflSan 
demanded something to eat, 
and condescended to accept an 

appetizing supper, which mother, with a show of hospitality, 

set before him. 

While this was preparing, the amiable Mr. Sharpe killed 

time in sharpening his bowie-knife on the sole of his shoe. 
"That." said he to Will, who stood watching him, "that's 

to cut the heart out of that Free ^tate father of yours ! ' ' And 

he tested the edge with brutally suggestive care. 

Will's comment was to take down his rifle and place himself 

on the staircase leading up to father's room. There was 

'9 




20 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

trouble in that quarter for Mr. Sharpe, if he attempted to 
ascend those stairs. 

But the justice, as mother surmised, had no notion that 
father was at home, else he would not have come alone. He 
ate heartily of the supper, which Will hoped would choke 
him, and passing from drowsiness to drunken slumber, soon 
tumbled from his chair, which so confused him that he forgot 
his pretended errand and shambled out of the hou.se. He was 
not so drunk that he could not tell a good bit of horse-flesh, and 
he straightway took a fancy to Prince, the pet pony of the 
family. An unwritten plank in the platform of the Pro-Slavery 
men was that the Free-Soil party had no rights they were 
bound to respect, and Sharpe remarked to Will, with a mali- 
cious grin : 

"That's a nice pony of yours, sonny. Guess I'll take him 
along with me." And he proceeded to exchange the saddle 
from the back of his own horse to that of Prince. 

"You old coward!" muttered Will, bursting with wrath. 
"I'll get even with you some day." 

The justice was a tall, burly fellow, and he cut so ridiculous 
a figure as he rode awaj^ on Prince's back, his heels almo.st 
touching the ground, that Will laughed outright as he thought 
of a plan to save his pony. 

A shrill whistle brought Turk to the scene, and receiving 
his cue, the dog proceeded to give Sharpe a very bad five 
minutes. He would nip at one of the dangling legs, spring 
back out of reach of the whip with a triumphant bark, and 
repeat the performance with the other leg. This little comedy 
had a delighted spectator in Will, who had followed at a safe 
di.stance, and just as Sharpe made one extra effort to reach 
Turk the boy whistled a signal to Prince, who responded with 
a bound that dumped his rider in the dust of the road. Plere 
Turk stood over him and showed his teeth. 

" Call off your dog, bub ! " the justice shouted to Will," and 
you may keep your little sheep, for he's no good anyway." 

*' That's a bargain ! " cried Will, restored to good-humor; 



LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 21 

and helping the vanquished foe upon his own steed, he assured 
him that he need not fear Turk so long as he kept his word. 
Sharpe departed, but we were not rid of him for long. 

About a fortnight later we were enjoying an evening with 
father, who was able to sit up for a few hours, though not 
daring to show himself in daylight. He was seated in a big 
arm-chair before the open fire, with his family gathered round 
him; by his side our frail, beautiful mother, with Baby 
Charlie on her knee, Martha and Julia, with their sewing, and 
Will, back of mother's chair, tenderly smoothing the hair from 
her brow, while he related spiritedly some new escapade of 
Turk's. Suddenly he checked his narrative, listened for a space, 
and announced : 

"There are some men riding on the road toward the house. 
We'd better be ready for trouble." 

Mother, equal to every emergency, hurriedly disposed her 
slender forces for defense. Martha and Julia w^ere directed to 
help father to bed, and, that done, to repair to the unfurnished 
front room above stairs ; Will was instructed to call the hired 
man and Jane, who was almost as large and quite as strong as 
the average man, while baby was put in his crib and left in 
charge of Eliza, Will, the hired man and Jane were armed 
and given their cue. They were handy with their weapons in 
case necessity demanded their use; but mother sought to win 
by strategy, if possible. She bade the older girls don heavy 
boots, and gave them further instructions, by which time 
the horsemen had reached the gate. Their leader was the re- 
doubtable Justice Sharpe. He rode up to the door and rapped 
with the butt of his riding-whip. Mother threw up the 
window overhead. 

" Who's there? and what do you want?" she demanded, 

" We want that old abolition husband of yours and, dead or 
ilive, we mean to have him ! " 

"All right, Mr. Sharpe," was the steady answer, "I'll 
ftsk Colonel Lane and his men to wait on you." 

The hired man, who had served in the Mexican war, here 



22 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

gave a sharp word of command, which was responded to by 
trampHng of heavy boots upon the bare floor. Then, calling 
a halt, the pretended Colonel I^ane advanced to the window 
and shouted to the horsemen : 

"Set foot inside that gate and my men will fire on you ! '' 

Sharpe, an arrant coward, had retreated at the first sound 
of a man's voice, and after a short parley with his nonplussed 
companions, he led them away — outwitted by a woman. 

As a sort of consolation prize, Sharpe again made off with 
Prince; but Will's sorrow in the morning was short-lived, for 
the sagacious little creature slipped his halter and came flying 
home before the forenoon was half spent. 

After this experience father decided that, for our sake as 
well as for his own, he must again leave home, and as soon as 
he recovered a measure of his strength he went to Grasshopper 
Falls, thirty-five miles west of Leavenworth. Here he erected a 
sawmill, and hoped that he had put so many miles between 
him and his enemies that he might be allowed to pursue a 
peaceful occupation. He made us occasional visits, so timing 
his journey that he reached home after nightfall, and left 
again before the sun was up. 

One day when we were looking forward to one of these 
visits, our good friend Mr. Hathaway made his appearance, 
about eleven o'clock. 

" It is too bad to be the bearer of ill tidings," said he, " but 
the news of your husband's expected visit has been noised 
about in some way, and another plot to kill him is afoot. Some 
of his enemies are camped at Big Stranger's Creek, and intend 
to shoot him as he passes there.' ' 

Then followed a long and anxious consultation, which ended 
without any plan of rescue. 

All of which had been overheard by Will, who was confined 
to his bed with an attack of ague. In him, he decided, lay 
the only hope for his father's safety, so, dressing, he presented 
his fever-flushed face to mother. As he held out a handker- 
chief, "Tie it tight around my head, mother," said he; 
" then it won't ache so hard." 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 23 

A remonstrance against his getting out of bed brought out 
the fact that he contemplated riding to Grasshopper Falls ! 

He was almost too weak to stand, a storm threatened, and 
thirty-five miles lay between him and father; yet he was not 
to be dissuaded from making the attempt to save his father. 
So Julia and Martha saddled Prince and helped the ague- 
racked courier to his saddle. 

The plunge into the open air and the excitement of the start 
encouraged Will to believe that he could hold out; and as he 
settled down to his long, hard ride he reflected that it was not 
yet noon and that father would not set out until late in the 
day. Prince seemingly discerned that something extraordi- 
nary was afoot, and swung along at a swift, steady gait. 

Big Stranger's Creek cut the road half way to the Falls, 
and Will approached it before the afternoon was half gone. 
The lowering sky darkened the highway, and he hoped to 
pass the ambush unrecognized; but as he came up to the 
stream he made out a camp and campers, one of whom called 
out carelessly to him as he passed: 

" Are you all right on the goose? "—the cant phrase of the 
Pro-Slavery men. 

"Never rode a goose in my life, gentlemen," was the 

reply. 

"That's Cody's boy! " shouted another voice, and the word 
"Halt!" rang out just as Will had galloped safely past the 
camp. 

Will's answer was to drive the spurs into Prince and dart 
ahead, followed by a rain of bullets. He was now well out of 
range and the pony still strong and fleet. 

The chase was on. and in the thrill of it Will forgot his 
weakness. A new strength came with the rush of air and the 
ring of hoofs, and "I'll reach the Falls in time ! " was his 
heartening thought, as pursuer and pursued sped through the 
forests, clattered over bridges and worked up hill and down. 

Then broke the long-impending storm, and the hard road 
became the bed of a muddy stream. The pursuit was aban- 



24 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

doned, and this stimulus removed, Will, drenched to the skin, 
felt the chills and weakness coming on again. It was an 
effort to keep his saddle, but he set his teeth firmly in his 
resolve to accomplish his self-imposed task. 

At last! A welcome light gleamed between the crystal bars 
of the rain, and Prince's rider toppled from his saddle into 
father's arms. 

His ride was longer by ten miles than that famous gallop of 
the friend of his after years — Phil Sheridan. And, like Sheri- 
dan, he reached the goal in time, for father was just mounting 
his horse. 

His mission accomplished, Will collapsed and was put to 
bed, and when he was somewhat recovered father started with 
him for Topeka, which was headquarters for the Free State 
party. This second ride proved too much for Will, and the 
effects of it confined him to his bed for some time. 

Father acquainted mother of their safety, and explained that 
he had gone to Topeka because he feared his life was no longer 
safe at Grasshopper Falls. 

Party strife in Kansas was now at its height. Thousands 
came into the territory from adjacent slave states simply to 
vote, and the Pro-Slavery party elected a legislature, whose 
first meeting was held at Le Compton. This election the Free- 
Soilers declared illegal because of fraudulent voting, and, 
assembling at Topeka in the winter of 1855-56, they framed a 
constitution excluding slavery and organized a rival govern- 
ment. Of this first Free-Soil Legislature father was a 
member. 

Thenceforth war was the order of the day, and in the fall of 
1856 a military governor was appointed, with full authority to 
maintain law and order in Kansas. 

Recognizing the good work effected by the emigrant aid so- 
cieties, and realizing that in a still larger Northern emigration 
to Kansas lay the only hope of its admission as a Free State, 
fatlxer in the spring went back to Ohio, to labor for the salva- 
tion of the territory he had chosen for his home. Here his 



LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 25 

natural gift of oratory had free play, and as the result of his 
work on the stump he brought back to Kansas sixty families, 
the most of whom settled in the vicinity of Grasshopper Falls, 
now Valley Falls. 

This meant busy times for us, for with that magnificent dis- 
regard for practical matters that characterizes many men of 
otherwise great gifts, father had invited each separate familj- 
to make headquarters at his home until other arrangements 
could be perfected. As a result our house overflowed, while 
the land about us was dotted with tents, but these melted away 
as one by one the families selected claims and put up cabins. 

Among the other settlers was Judge Delahay, who with his 
famil)'^ located at L,eaven worth, and began the publishing of 
the first abolition newspaper in Kansas- The appointing of the 
military governor was the means of restoring comparative 
tranquillity, but hundreds of outrages were committed and the 
judge and his newspaper came in for a share of suffering. The 
printing office was broken into and the type and press thrown 
into the Missouri River. Undaunted, the judge procured a 
new press and the paper continued. 

A semi-quiet now reigned in the territory ; father resumed 
work at the sawmill, and we looked forward to a peaceful home, 
enjoyed by a united family. But it was not to be. The knife 
w'ound had injured father's lung. With care and nursing it 
might have healed, but constant suffering attended on the life 
that persecution had led him, and in the spring of '57 he again 
came home and took to his bed for the last time. 

All that could be done was done, but his days were nui.i 
bered, and after a very short illness he passed away — one of 
the first martyrs in the cause of Kansas freedom. 

The land of his adoption, made beautiful by God and dese- 
crated by His creature man, became his last, long resting- 
place. His remains now lie on Pilot Knob, which overlooks 
the beautiful city of Leavenworth. His death was regretted 
even by his enemies, who granted a tribute of respect to a 
man that had been upright and just and generous to friend 
and foe. 



CHAPTER V. 



AN UNJUST CI.AIM — WII.I. SIGNS A PLEDGE — THE " BOY EX- 
TRA ' ' OF THE BULL-TRAIN — ATTACKED BY INDIANS — 
THE FLIGHT BY THE RIVER — WILL'S FIRST DEAD INDIAN 
— ARRIVAL AT FORT KEARNEY — THE WRECK OF THE 
BULL-TRAIN. 

T this sorrowful period mother 
was herself almost at death's 
door with consumption, but, 
far from sinking under the 
blow, she faced the new con- 
ditions with a steadfast calm, 
realizing that, should she too 
be taken, her children would 
be left without a protector, at 
the mercy of the enemies whose 
malignity had brought their 
father to an untimely end. 
Her indomitable will opposed 
her bodily weakness. ' ' I will 
not die," she told herself, "until the welfare of my children 
is assured." She was needed, for our persecution continued. 
Scarce was the funeral over when a trumped-up claim for a 
thousand dollars, for lumber and supplies, was entered against 
our estate. Mother knew the claim was fictitious, as all the 
bills had been settled, but the business had been transacted 
through the agency of Uncle Elijah, and she had neglected to 
retain the receipts. In those bitter, troublous days it too often 
happened that brother turned against brother, and Elijah re- 
tained his fealty to his party at the expense of his dead broth- 
er' s family. 
26 




LAST OF THE GRKAT SCOUTS. 27 

This fresh afflictiou but added fuel to the flame of mother's 
energy. Our home was paid for, but father's business had 
been made so broken and irregular that our financial resources 
were of the slenderest, and were this unjust claim for a thou- 
sand dollars allowed we should be homeless. 

The upshot of mother's study of the situation was : " If I 
had the ready monej^ I should fight the claim." 

Echo, in the person of Will, now eleven years old, replied : 
" You fight the claim and I'll get the money." 

Mother smiled, but Will continued : 

" Russell, Majors & Waddell will give me work. Jim 
Willis says I am capable of filling the position of ' extra.' If 
you'll go with me and ask Mr. Majors for a job I'm sure he'll 
give me one. ' ' 

Russell, Majors & Waddell were overland freighters and 
contractors, with headquarters at lycavenworth. To Will's 
suggestion mother entered a demurrer, but finally yielded 
before his brave insistence. Mr. Majors had known father 
and was more than willing to aid us, but Will's youth was an 
objection not lightly' overridden. 

' ' What can a boy of your age do ? " he asked kindly. 

" I can ride, shoot and herd cattle," said Will ; " but I'd 
rather be an ' extra ' on one of your trains." 

"But that is a man's work, and is dangerous besides." 
Mr. Majors hesitated. " But I'll let you try it one trip, and 
if you do a man's work I'll give you a man's pay." 

So Will's name was put on the company roll, and he signed 
a pledge that illustrates better than a description the character 
and disposition of Mr. Majors. 

" I, William F. Cody," it read, "do hereby solemnly swear, 
before the great and living God, that during my engagement 
with, and while I am in the employ of, Russell, Majors & 
Waddell, I will, under no circumstances, use profane lan- 
guage, that I will not quarrel or fight with any other employee 
of the firm, and that in every respect I will conduct myself 
honestly, be faithful to my duties, and so direct all my acts as 



28 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOTTTS. 

to win the confidence of my employers. So help me God!" 

Mr. Majors employed many wild and reckless men, but the 
language of the pledge penetrated to the better nature of them 
all. They endeavored, with varying success, to live up to its 
conditions, although most of them held that driving a bull- 
team constituted extenuating circumstances for an occasional 
expletive. 

The pledge lightened mother's heart ; she knew that Will 
would keep his word ; she felt, too, that a man that required 
such a pledge of his employees was worthy of their confidence 
and esteem. 

The train was to start in a day, and all of us were busy with 
the preparations for a two months' trip. The moment of 
parting came, and it was a tearful one for mother, so recently 
bereft of husband. Will sought to soothe her, but the 
younger sisters had better success, for with tears in our eyes 
we crowded about him and implored him to " run if he saw 
any Indians." 

'Tis but a step from tears to smiles ; the situation was re- 
lieved, and Will launched his life bark amid adieus of hope and 
confidence and love. His fortitude lasted only till he was out 
of sight of the house ; but youth is elastic, and the plains lay 
before him, and mother and sisters were to be helped, and he 
presented a cheerful face to his employers. 

That night the bed of the "boy extra" was a blanket 
under a wagon, but he slept soundly, and was ready when the 
train started with the dawn. 

The ' ' bull-train ' ' took its name from the fact that each of 
the thh'ty-five wagons making up a full train was hauled by 
several yoke of oxen driven by one man, known as a bull- 
whacker. This functionary's whip cracked like a rifle, and 
could be heard about as far. The wagons resembled the 
ordinary prairie schooner, but were larger and more strongly 
built ; they were protected from the weather by a double cover- 
ing of heavy canvas, and had a freight capacity of seven thou- 
sand pounds. 



LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS. 29 

Besides the biiliwhackers there were cavallard drivers (who 
cared for the loose cattle), night herders and sundry extra 
hands, all under the charge of a chief wagon-master, termed 
the wagon boss, his lieutenants being the boss of the cattle 
train and the assistant wagon -master. The men were dis- 
posed in messes, each mess providing its own wood and water, 
doing its own cooking and washing up its own tin dinner ser- 
vice, while one man in each division stood guard. Special 
duties were assigned to the " extras," and Will's was to ride 
up and down the train delivering orders. This suited his 
fanc}- to a dot, for the oxen were snail-gaited, and to plod at 
their heels was dull work. Kipling tells us it is quite impos- 
sible to "hustle the East" ; it were as easy, as Will dis- 
covered, to hustle a bull-train. 

From the outset the ' ' boy extra ' ' was a favorite with the 
men. They liked his pluck in undertaking such work, and 
when it was seen that he took pride in executing orders 
promptly, he became a favorite with the bosses as well. In 
part his work was play to him; he welcomed an order as a 
break in the monotony of the daily march, and hailed the 
opportunity of a gallop on a good horse. 

The world of Will's fancy was bounded by the hazy rim 
where plain and sky converge, and when the first day's journey 
was done and he had staked out and cared for his horse, he 
watched with fascinated eyes the strange and striking picture 
limned against a background of dark, illimitable prairie. Every- 
thing was animation; the bull whackers unhitching and dis- 
posing of their teams, the herders staking out the cattle, and 
— not the least interesting — the mess cooks preparing the 
evening meal at the crackling campfires. 

But life on the plains is not all a supper under the stars 
when the sparks fly upward; it has its hardships and privations. 
There were days, as the wagons dragged their slow lengths 
along, when the clouds obscured the sky and the wind whis- 
tled dismally; days when torrents fell and swelled the streams 
that must be crossed, and when the mud lay ankle deep; days 



30 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

when the cattle stampeded, and the roundup meant long, extra 
hours of heavy work; and, hardest but most needed work of 
all, the eternal vigil 'gainst an Indian attack. 

Will did not share the anxiety of his companions. To him 
a brush with Indians would prove that boyhood's dreams 
.sometimes come true, and in imagination he anticipated the 
glory of a first encounter with the ' ' noble red man ' ' after the 
fashion of the heroes in the hair-lifting Western tales he had 
read. He was soon to learn, as many another has learned, 
that the Indian of real life is vastly different from the Indian 
of fiction. He refuses to "bite the dust" at sight of a pale- 
face, and a dozen of them have been known to hold their own 
against as many white men. 

vSome twenty miles west of Fort Kearney a halt was made 
for dinner at the bank of a creek that emptied into the Platte 
River. No signs of Indians had been come upon, and there 
was no thought of special danger; but, as was the custom, 
three men were on guard. Many of the trainmen were asleep 
under the wagons while waiting dinner, and Will was watch- 
ing the maneuvers of the cook in his mess. Suddenly a score 
of shots rang out from the direction of a neighboring thicket, 
succeeded by a chorus of blood-chilling yells. 

Will saw the three men on the lookout drop in their tracks, 
and saw the Indians divide, one wing stampeding the cattle, 
the other charging down upon the camp. 

The trainmen were old frontiersmen, and, although taken 
wholly by surprise, they lined up swiftly in battle array be- 
hind the wagons, with the bosses. Bill and Frank McCarthy, 
at their head, and the "boy extra" under the wing of the 
wagon -master. 

A well-placed volley of rifle balls checked the Indians, and 
they wheeled and rode away, after sending in a scattering 
cloud of arrows, which wounded several of the trainmen. The 
decision of a hasty council of war was that a defensive stand 
would be useless, as the Indians outnumbered the whites ten 
to one, and red reinforcements were constantly coming up, 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 3 1 

until it seemed to Will as if the prairie were alive with them. 
The only hope of safety lay in the shelter of the creek's high 
bank, so a run was made for it. The Indians charged again, 
with the usual infernal accompaniment of whoops and yells 
and flying arrows, but the trainmen had reached the creek, 
and from behind its natural breastwork maintained a rifle fire 
that drove the foe back out of range. 

To follow the creek and river to Fort Kearney was not 
accounted much of a chance for escape, but it was the only 
avenue that lay open, so, with a parting volley to deceive the 
besiegers into thinking that the fort was still held, the peril- 
ous and diflScult journey was begun. 

The Indians quickly penetrated the ruse, and another charge 
had to be repulsed. Besides the tiresome work of wading, 
there were wounded men to help along, and a ceaseless watch 
to keep against another rush of the reds. It was a trying 
ordeal for a man, doubly so for a boy like Will, but he was 
encouraged to coolness and endurance by a few words from 
Frank McCarthy, who remarked admiringly: " Well, Billy, 
you didn't scare worth a cent." 

After a few miles of wading the little party debouched upon 
the Platte River, and by this time the wounded men were so 
exhausted that a halt was called to improvise a raft. On this 
the sufferers were placed and three or four men detailed 
to shove it before them. In consideration of his youth. 
Will was urged to get upon the raft, but he declined, 
saying that he was not wounded, and that if the stream got 
too deep for him to wade he could swim. This was more than 
some of the men could do, and they too had to be assisted 
over the deep places. 

Thus wore the long and weary hours away, and though the 
men, who knew how hard a trip it was, often asked, " How 
goes it, Billy ? " he uttered no word of complaint. 

But half a day's wading, without rest or food, gradually 
weighted his heels, and little by little he lagged behind his com- 
panions. The moon came out and silvered tree and river, but 



32 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

the silent, plodding band had no eyes for the glory of the 
landscape. 

Will had fallen behind some twenty rods, but in a moment 
fatigue was forgotten and the blood jumped in his veins, for 
just ahead of him the moonlight fell upon the feathered head- 
dress of an Indian chief, who was peering over the bank. 
Motionless, he watched the head, shoulders, and body of the 
brave come into view. The Indian supposed the entire party 
ahead, and Will made no move until the savage bent his bow. 

Then he realized, with a thumping heart, that death must 
come to one of his comrades or the Indian. 

Even in direst necessity it is a fearful thing to deliberately 
take a human life, but Will had no time for hesitation. 
There was a shot, and the Indian rolled down the bank into 
the river. 

His expiring yell was answered by others. The reds were 
not far away. Frank McCarthy, missing Will, stationed guards 
and ran back to look for him. He found the lad hauling the 
dead warrior ashore, and seizing his hand, cried out : "Well 
done, my boy ; you've killed your first Indian, and done it 
like a man ! ' ' 

Will wanted to stop and bury the body, but being assured 
that it was not only an uncustomary courtesy, but in this case 
quite impossible, he hastened on. As they came up with the 
waiting group McCarthy called out : 

" Pards, little Billy has killed his first redskin ! " 

The announcement was greeted with cheers, which grated 
on Will's ears, for his heart was sick, and the cheers seemed 
strangely out of place. 

lyittle time, however, was afforded for sentiment of any sort. 
Enraged at the death of their scout, the Indians made a final 
charge, which was repulsed like the others, and after this Bill 
McCarthy took the lead, with Frank at the rear, to prevent 
further straggling of the forces. 

It was a haggard-faced band that came up to Fort Kearney 
with the dawn. The wounded men were left at the post, while 



l^AST OB' THE GREAT SCOUTS. ^^ 

the others returned to the wrecked bull-train under escort of 
a body of troops. They hoped to make some salvage, but the 
cattle had either been driven away or had joined one of the 
numerous herds of buffalo, the wagons and their freight had 
been burned, and there was nothing to do but bury the three 
pickets, whose scalped and mutilated bodies were stretched 
where they had fallen. 

Then the troops and trainmen parted company, the former 
to undertake a bootless quest for the red marauders, the latter 
to return to Leaven worth, their occupation gone. The gov- 
ernment held itself responsible for the depredations of its 
wards, and the loss of the wagons and cattle was assumed at 
Washington. 



CHAPTER VI. 



I^TIE LAWSUIT — LAWYER DOUGLASS'S PLKA — ARRIVAL OP THE 
MISSING WITNESS — SISTER MARTHA'S WEDDING — THE 
GERM OF THE WILD WEST SHOW — AN EXPERIENCE WITH 
HARD CIDER — OFF FOR FORT BRIDGER — RAIDED BY 
DANITES — WINTER QUARTERS AND SHORT RATIONS. 

HE fame to which Bj^ron woke, 
one historic morning, was no 
more unexpected to him than 
that which now greeted un- 
assuming Will with warlike 
laurels. The trainmen had 
not been over-modest in their 
accounts of his pluck, and 
when a newspaper reporter 
lent the magic of his gifted 
imagination to the plain nar- 
rative it became quite a story. 
"The Boy Indian Slayer;" 
thus ran the headlines. " 'Tis 
pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print." 

But Will was speedily concerned with other than his own 
affairs, for as soon as his position with the freighters was 
assured mother engaged a lawyer to fight the claim against 
our estate. This legal light was John C. Douglass, then 
unknown, unhonored and unsung, but talented and enterpris- 
ing notwithstanding. He had just settled in Leavenworth, 
and he could scarcely have found a better case with which to 
storm the heights of fame — the dead father, the sick mother, 
the helpless children and relentless persecution, in one scale; 

34 




SSii-iiiii* 



tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 3$ 

in the other an eleven-year-old boy doing a man's work to 
earn the money needed to combat the family's enemies- 
Douglass put his whole strength into the case. 

He knew as well as we that our cause was weak ; it hung by 
a single peg — a missing witness, Mr. Barnhart. This man 
had acted as bookkeeper when the bills were paid, but he had 
been sent away, and the prosecution— or persecution — had 
thus far succeeded in keeping his whereabouts a secret. To 
every place where he was likely to be Lawyer Douglass had 
written ; but we were as much in the dark as ever when the 
morning for the trial of the suit arrived. 

The case had excited much interest and the court room was 
crowded, many persons having been drawn thither by a curios- 
ity to look upon ' 'The Boy Indian Slayer. ' ' There was a 
cheerful unanimity of opinion upon the utter hopelessness of 
the Cody side of the case. Not only were prominent and 
wealthy men arrayed against us, but our young and inexperi- 
enced lawyer faced the heaviest legal guns of the I^eavenworth 
bar. Our only witnesses were a frail woman and a girl of 
eighteen, though by their side, with his head held high, was 
the family protector, our brave young brother. Against us 
were might and malignity; upon our side right and the high 
courage with which Christianity steels the soul of a believer. 
Mother had faith that the invisible forces of the universe were 
fighting for our cause. 

She and Martha swore to the fact that all the bills had been 
settled, and after the opposition had rested its case Lawyer 
Douglass arose for the defense. His was a magnificent plea 
for the rights of the widow and the orphan, and was conceded 
to be one of the finest speeches ever heard in a Kansas court 
room; but though all were moved by our counsel's eloquence — 
some unto tears by the pathos of it — though the justice of our 
cause was freely admitted throughout the court room, our best 
friends feared the verdict. 

But the climax was as stunning to our enemies as it was 
unexpected. As Lawyer Douglass finished his last ringing 



36 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

period the missing witness, Mr. Barnhart, hurried into the 
court room. He had started for Leavenworth upon the first 
intimation that his presence there was needed, and had 
reached it just in time. He took the stand, swore to his cer- 
tain knowledge that the bills in question had been paid, and 
the jury, without leaving their seats, returned a verdict for 
the defense. 

Then rose cheer upon cheer, as our friends crowded about 
us and offered their congratulations. Our home was saved, 
and Lawyer Douglass had won a reputation for eloquence and 
sterling worth that stood undimmed through all his long and 
prosperous career. 

The next ripple on the current of our lives was sister Mar- 
tha's wedding-day. Possessed of remarkable beauty, she had 
become a belle, and as young ladies were scarce in Kansas at 
that time, she was the toast of all our country round. But her 
choice, as is so oft unhappily the case, had fallen on a man un- 
worthy of her. Of his antecedents we knew nothing ; of his 
present being little more, save that he was fair in appearance 
and seemingly prosperous. In the sanction of the union Will 
alone had stood aloof. Joined to a native intuition were the 
sharpened faculties of a lad that lived beyond his years. Almost 
unerring in his insight, he disliked the object of our sister's 
choice so cordially that he refused to be a witness of the 
nuptials. This dislike we attributed to jealousy, as brother 
and sister worshipped each other, but the sequel proved a sad 
corroboration of his views. 

Nature seemed to join her protest to Will's silent antagon- 
ism. A terrific thunderstorm came up with the noon hour of 
the wedding. So deep and sullen were the clouds that we 
were obliged to light the candles, the fashionable illuminant 
of the period. And when the wedding pair took their places 
before Hymen's altar, a crash of thunder rocked the house 
and set the casements jingling. 

The couple had their home awaiting them in Leavenworth, 
and departed almost immediately after the ceremony. 



I.AST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 37 

That reader will be wrong who thinks that the cares and 
responsibilities laid upon our brother's shoulders had quenched 
his boyish spirits and love of fun. Ever mindful of her chil- 
dren's needs, mother had set aside as a playroom one apart- 
ment in the large log house, though for our toys we were com- 
pelled to exert our ingenuity, and therefore enjoyed them all 
the more. We made our own dolls, fashioned our own small 
furniture, and built our own doll mansions. Will was a great 
tease, and he delighted to invade the plaj-room when the dolls 
were set in order for the night, and play havoc with our 
maternal ideas of arrangement. Some greeted the morning 
light in kneeling posture by the bed, others stood upon their 
heads in most dejected attitudes, still others stood in pugilistic 
poses. Taken to task for these indignities, Will would flee in 
seeming fright, and hide from our wrath. It was in this play- 
room that the germ of his Wild West Show took life. 

He never tired of enacting scenes of frontier life, based upon 
the experience of his first freighting trip. We girls person- 
ated, first one and then another, stage-drivers, passengers, 
outlaws, Indians and soldiers, to the presumed edification of 
an imaginary audience. In these performances we were do- 
cility itself, but when Will informed us that he purposed some 
day organizing a big show that should enable Eastern folk to 
appreciate the rugged life of the frontier, we laughed at him. 
No one, said we, would care to witness such a performance; 
besides, there was his destiny in the way. How could the 
President of the United States run a show? 

' ' How could that fortune-teller know what I am going to 
be ?" Will would answer, disdainfully. " I rather guess I can 
have a show, in spite of all the fortune-tellers in the country. 
I'll tell you right now, girls, I don't propose to be President, 
but I do mean to have a show !" 

At this we would run crying to mother. Such temerity in 
disputing one's destiny was appalling ; and though our ideas 
of destiny were rather vague, we could grasp one dreadful fact: 
Will had refused to be President of the United States ! 



38 tAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 

"Don't he have to be?" we would sob; and mother, 
smoothing our hair, would return some comforting assurance. 

In spite of Will's fine scorn of fortune-tellers, the prophecy 
concerning his future must have been often in his mind. This 
was shown in an episode that the writer is in duty bound, as a 
veracious chronicler, to set down. 

Our neighbor, Mr. Hathaway, had a son, Eugene, of about 
Will's age, and the pair were fast friends. One day when 
Will was visiting at Eugene's house the boys introduced 
themselves to a barrel of hard cider. Temperance sentiment 
had not progressed far enough to bring hard cider under the 
ban, and Mr. Hathaway had lately pressed out a quantity of 
the old-fashioned beverage. The boys, supposing it a harm- 
less drink, took all they desired — much more than they could 
carry. They were in a deplorable condition when Mr. Hatha- 
way found them ; and much distressed, the good old man put 
Eugene to bed and brought Will home. 

The family hero returned to us with a flourish of trumpets. 
He stood up in the wagon and sang and shouted ; and when 
Mr. Hathaway reproved him, " Don't talk to me," was his 
lofty rejoinder. " You forget that I am to be President of the 
United States." 

There is compensation for everything. Will never touched 
cider again ; and never again could he lord it over his still ad- 
miring but no longer docile sisters. If he undertook to boss or 
tease us more than to our fancy, we would subdue him with an 
imitation of his grandiloquent, " You forget that I am to be 
President of the United States." Indeed, so severe was this 
retaliation that we seldom saw him the rest of the day. 

Will was not long at home. The Mormons, who were 
settled in Utah, rebelled when the government, objecting to 
the quality of justice meted out by Brigham Young, sent a 
federal judge to the territorj^ Troops under the command of 
General Albert Sidney Johnston were dispatched to quell the 
insurrection, and Russell, Majors & Waddell contracted to 
transport stores and beef cattle to the army massing against 



I 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 39 

the Mormons in the fall of '57. The train was a large one, 
better prepared against such an attack as routed the McCarthy 
brothers earlier in the summer ; yet its fate was the same. 

Will was assigned to duty as " extra " under Lew Simpson, 
an experienced wagon-master, and was subject to his orders 
only. There was the double danger of Mormons and Indians, 
so the pay was good. Forty dollars a month in gold looked 
like a large sum to an eleven-year-old. 

The second parting with the dear ones at home was as poig- 
nant as the first. We girls, as before, were loud in our wait- 
ings, and offered to forgive him the depredations in the doll- 
house and all his teasings, if only he would not go away and 
be scalped by the Indians. Mother said little, but her anxious 
look, as she recalled the perils of the former trip, spoke volumes. 
He carried with him the memory of the open-mouthed admir- 
ation of little Charlie, to whom " Brother Will" was the great- 
est hero in the world. Perhaps Turk's grief at the parting 
was not a whit behind ours ; but the faithful old fellow seemed 
to realize that in Will's absence the duty of the family pro- 
tector devolved on him, and he made no attempt to follow Will 
beyond the gate. 

The train made good progress, and more than half the jour- 
ney to Fort Bridger was accomplished without a setback. 
When the Rockies were reached a noon halt was made near 
Green River, and here the men were surrounded and overcome 
by a large force of Danites, the ' 'Avenging Angels" of the Mor- 
mon Church, who had " stolen the livery of the court of heaven 
to serve the devil in. ' ' These were responsible for the atrocious 
Mountain Meadow Massacre in June of this same 3'ear, though 
the wily ' ' Saints ' ' had planned to place the odium of an un- 
provoked murder of innocent women and children upon the 
Indians, who, heaven knows, had enough to answer for, and 
•who, in this instance, were but the tools of the Mormon Church. 
Brigham Young repudiated his accomplice and allowed John 
D. L,ee to become the scapegoat. The dying statement of this 
man is as pathetic as Cardinal Wolsey's arraignment ( T 
Henry VIII. , , , .. > 



40 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

"A victim must be had," said he, "and I am that victim. 
For thirty years I studied to make Brigham Young's will my 
law. See now what I have come to this day, I have been 
sacrificed in a cowardly, dastardly manner. I do not fear 
death. I cannot go to a worse place than I am now in." 

John D. Lee deserved his fate, but Brigham Young was none 
the less a coward. 

The Danites spared the lives of the trainmen, but they made 
sad havoc of the supplies ; these they knew to be intended for 
the use of the army opposed to Brigham Young. They carried 
off all the stores they could handle, drove with them or stam- 
peded the cattle and burned the wagons. The trainmen were 
permitted to retain one wagon and team, with just enough sup- 
plies to last them to army headquarters. 

It was a disheartened, discomfited band that reached Fort 
Bridger. The information that two other trains had been de- 
stroyed added to their discouragement, for that meant that 
they, in common with the other trainmen and the soldiers at 
the fort, must subsist on short rations for the winter. There 
were nearly four hundred of these trainmen, and it was so late 
in the season that they had no choice but to remain where they 
were until spring opened. 



CHAPTER VII. 



HEMMKD IN BY INDIANS — THE DEAD- MULE BARRICADE — A 
DREAM THAT SAVED THREE LIVES — SISTER MARTHA'S 
DEATH — WILL GOES TO SCHOOL — TURK'S RESCUE OF HIS 
MASTER — THE FIGHT WITH STEVE GOBEL — OFF FOR THE 
PLAINS AGAIN. 

T was an irksome Winter. 
The men at the Fort hauled 
their firewood two miles ; as 
the supplies dwindled, one by- 
one the oxen were slaught- 
ered, and when this food sup- 
ply was exhausted, starvation 
reared its gaunt form. Hap- 
pily the freighters got word of 
the situation, and a large sup- 
ply team reached the fort before 
the spring was fairly opened. 
As soon as practicable the 
return journey was under- 
taken. At Fort Laramie two large trains were put in charge 
of Lew Simpson, as brigade wagon-master, and Will was in- 
stalled as courier between the two caravans, which traveled 
twenty miles apart — plenty of elbow room for camping and for- 
aging. 

One morning Simpson, George Woods and Will, who were in 
the rear train, set out for the forward one, mounted upon 
mules and armed, as the trainmen always were, with rifle, 
knife and a brace of revolvers. About half of the twenty miles 
had been told off when the trio saw a band of Indians emerge 

41 




42 LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

from a clump of trees half a mile away and sweep toward 
them. Flight with the mules was useless ; resistance prom- 
ised hardly more success, as the Indians numbered a full half 
hundred ; but surrender was death and mutilation. 

"Shoot the mules, boys!" ordered Simpson, and five 
minutes later two men and a boy looked grimly over a still 
palpitating barricade. 

The defense was simple ; rifles at range, revolvers for close 
quarters, knives at the last. The chief, easily distinguished 
by his feathered head-dress, was assigned to Will. Already 
his close shooting was the pride of the frontiersmen, Simp- 
son's coolness steadied the lad, who realized that the situation 
was desperate. 

The Indians came on with the rush and the scream of the 
March wind. " Fire ! " said Simpson, and three ponies 
emptied their saddles as the smoke curled from three rifle 
barrels. 

Dismayed by the fall of their chief, the redskins wheeled 
and rode out of range. Will gave a sigh of relief. 

" Load up again, Billy ! " smiled Simpson. " They'll soon 
be back." 

" They've only three or four rifles," said Woods, There 
had been little lead in the cloud of arrows. 

"Here they come!" warned Simpson, and the trio ran 
their rifles out over the dead mules. 

Three more riderless ponies; but the Indians kept on, sup- "■'^, 
posing they had drawn the total fire of the whites. A revolver 
fusilade undeceived them, and the charging column wavered 
and broke for cover. 

Simpson patted Will on the shoulder as they reloaded. 
"You're a game one, Billy!" said he. 

" You bet he is, " echoed Woods, coolly drawing an arrow 
from his shoulder. ' ' How is that, Lew — poisoned ? ' ' 

Will waited, breathless, for the decision, and his relief was as 
great as Woods's when Simpson, after a critical scrutiny, 
answered, ' ' No. ' ' 



IvAST OF -rHi; GREAT SCOUTS. 43 

The wound was hastily dressed, and the little company gave 
an undivided attention to the foe, who were circling around 
their quarry, hanging to the off sides of their ponies and fir- 
ing under them. With a touch of the grim humor that plain 
life breeds, Will declared that the mules were veritable pin- 
cushions, so full of arrows were they stuck. 

The besieged maintained a return fire, dropping pony after 
pony, and occasionally a rider. This proved expensive sport 
to the Indians, and the whole party finally withdrew from 
range. 

There was a long breathing spell, which the trio improved 
by strengthening their defense, digging up the dirt with their 
knives and piling it upon the mules. It was tedious work, 
but preferable to inactivity and cramped quarters. 

Two hours went by, and the plan of the enemy was dis- 
closed. A light breeze arose and the Indians fired the prairie. 
Luckily the grass near the trail was short, and, though the 
heat was intense and the smoke stifling, the barricade held off 
the flame, Simpson had kept a close watch, and presently 
gave the order to fire. A volley went through the smoke and 
blaze, and the yell that followed proved that it was not 
wasted. This last ruse failing, the Indians settled down to 
their favorite game — waiting. 

A thin line of them circled out of range; ponies were pick- 
eted and camps pitched; night fell and the stars shot out, and 
the red man watched his prey. 

As Woods was wounded, he was excused from guard duty, 
Will and Simpson keeping watch in turn. Will took the first 
vigil, and, tired though he was, experienced no difficulty in 
keeping awake, but he went soundly to sleep the moment he 
was relieved. He was wakened by a dream that Turk was 
barking to him, and, vaguely alarmed, he sat up to find Simp- 
son sleeping across his rifle. 

The midnight hush was unbroken, and the darkness lay 
thick upon the plain, but shapes blacker than night hovered 
near, and Will laid his hand on Simpson's shoulder. , 



44 LAST" OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 

The latter was instantly alive, and Woods was wakened. 
A faint click went away on the night breeze, and a moment 
later three jets of flame carried warning to the up-creeping foe 
that the whites were both alive and on the alert. 

There was no more sleep within the barricade. The dawn 
grew into day, and anxious eyes scanned the trail for rein- 
forcements — coming surely, but on what heavy and slow-turn- 
ing wheels. 

Noon came and passed. The anxious eyes questioned one 
another. Had the rear train been overcome by a larger band 
of savages? But suddenly half a dozen of the Indians were 
seen to spring up with gestures of excitement, and spread the 
alarm around the circle. 

" They hear the cracking of the bull-whips," said Simpson. 

The Indians who had seen the first team pass, and had as- 
sumed that Simpson and his companions were straggling mem- 
bers of it, did not expect another train so soon. There was 
"mounting in hot haste," and the Indians rode away in one 
bunch for the distant foot-hills, just as the first ox-team broke 
into view. 

And never was there fairer picture to more appreciative ej'^es 
than those same lumbering, clumsy animals ; and never sweeter 
music than the harsh staccato of the bull-whips. 

When hunger was appeased and Woods's wound properly 
dressed, Will for the second time found himself a hero among 
the plainsmen. His nerve and coolness were dwelt upon by 
Simpson, and to the dream that waked him in season was 
ascribed the continued life on earth of the little company. 
Will, however, was disposed to allow Turk the full credit for 
the service. 

The remainder of the trip was devoid of special incident, and 
as Will neared home he hurried on in advance of the train, as 
our home was on the lycavenworth trail. His heart beat high 
as he thought of the dear faces awaiting him, unconscious that 
he was so near. 

But the home toward which he was hastening with beating 



LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 45 

heart and winged heels was shadowed by a great grief. 
Sister Martha's married life, though brief, had amply justified 
her brother's estimate of the man into whose hands she had 
given her life. She was taken suddenly ill, and it was not 
until several months later that Will learned that the cause of 
her sickness was the knowledge that had come to her of the 
faithless nature of her husband. The revelation was made 
through the visit of one of Mr. Crane's creditors, who, angered 
at a refusal to liquidate a debt, accused Mr. Crane of being a 
bigamist, and threatened to set the law upon him. The blow 
was fatal to one of Martha's pure and affectionate nature, al- 
ready crushed by neglect and cruelty. She fell to the floor, 
and her husband hastily put her to bed and summoned help, 
but she spoke not another conscious word until just before her 
death. All the night she was delirious, and her one thought 
was " Willie," and the danger he was in — not alone the phy- 
sical danger, but the moral and spiritual peril that she feared 
lay in association with rough and reckless men. She moaned 
and tossed, and uttered incoherent cries ; but as the morning 
broke the storm went down, and the anxious watchers fancied 
that she slept. Suddenly she sat up, the light of reason again 
shining in her ej^es, and with the joyous cry, "Tell mother 
Willie's saved ! Willie's saved ! " she fell back on her pillow, 
and her spirit passed away. On her face was the peace that 
the world can neither give nor take away. The veil of the Un- 
known had been drawn aside for a space. She had " sent her 
soul through the Invisible," and it had found the light that lit 
the last weary steps through the Valley of the Shadow. 

Mr. Crane had moved from Leavenworth to Johnson County, 
twenty-five miles away, and as there were neither telegraph 
nor mail facilities, he had the body sent home, himself accom- 
panying it. Thus our first knowledge of Martha's .sickness 
came when her lifeless clay was borne across our threshold, 
the threshold that, less than a year before, she had crossed a 
bright and bonny bride. Dazed by the shock, we longed for 
Will's return before we must lay his idolized sister forever in 
her narrow cell. 



46 T.AST OF TIIK GREAT SCOUTS. 

All of tbe family, Mr. Crane included, were gathered in the. 
sitting-room, sad and silent, when Turk suddenly raised his 
head, listened a second, and bounded out of doors. 

"Will is coming !' ' cried mother, and we all ran to the door. 
Turk was racing up the long hill, at the top of which was a 
, moving speck that the dog knew to be his master. His keen 
ears had caught the familiar whistle half a mile away. 

When Turk had manifested his joy at the meeting, he pre- 
pared Will for the bereavement that awaited him; he put his 
head down and emitted a long and repeated wail. Will's first 
thought was for mother, and he fairly ran down the hill; the 
girls met him some distance from the house and sobbed out 
the .sad news. 

And when he had Itsfened, the lad that had passed unflinch- 
ing through two Indian fights, broke down and sobbed with 
the rest of us. 

"Did that rascal Crane have anything to do with her 
death?" he asked, when the first passion of grief was over. 

Julia, who knew no better at the time, replied that Mr. 
Crane was the kindest of husbands and was crushed with sor- 
row at his I0.SS; but spite of the assurance, Will, when he 
reached the house, had neither look nor word for Mr. Crane. 
He just put his arms about mother's neck, and mingled his 
grief with her words of sympathy and love. 

Martha was shortly after laid by father's side, and as we 
Rtood weeping in that awful moment when the last spadeful of 
earth completes the sepulture, Will, no longer master of him- 
self, stepped up before Mr. Crane. 

" Murderer," he said, "one da}' you shall answer to me for 
the death of her who lies there !" 

When Will next presented himself at Mr. Ma jors's office, he 
was told that his services had been wholly satisfactory, and 
that he could have work at any time he desired. This was 
gratifying, but a sweeter plea.sure was to lay his winter's 
wages in mother's lap. Through his help and her business 
ability our pecuniary affairs were in good condition. We were 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 47 

comfortably situated, and as Salt Creek Valley now boasted of 
a schoolhouse, mother wished Will to enter school. He was 
so young when he came West that his school days had been 
few; nor was the prospect of adding to their number alluring. 
After the excitement of life on the plains, going to school was 
dull work, in truth; but he realized that there was a world 
beyond the prairie's horizon, and he entered school determined 
to do honest work. 

Our first teacher was of the old-fashioned sort. He taught 
because he had to live. He had no love for his work, and knew 
nothing of children. Hence Will's school days were neither as 
pleasant nor profitable as we had hoped. 

Turk, who accompanied his master everywhere, was also 
seized with educational ambition. We tried to drive him home, 
but he followed at a distance, and as we entered the school- 
house he emerged from the shrubbery by the roadside and crept 
under the building. 

Alas for the scholars, and alas for the school ! Another am- 
bitious dog reposed beneath the temple of learning. 

Will about that time was having a bad quarter of an hour. 
An examination into his knowledge, or lack of it, was under 
way, and he was hard pressed. Had he been asked how to 
strike a trail, locate water, or pitch a tent, his replies would 
have been full and accurate, but the teacher's queries seemed 
as foolish as the " Reeling and Writhing, Ambition, Distrac- 
tion, Uglification and Derision " of the Mock Turtle in "Alice 
in Wonderland." 

Turk effected, an unexpected rescue. Snarls were heard be- 
neath the schoolhouse ; then savage growls and yelps, while 
the floor resounded with the whacks of the canine combatants. 
With a whoop that would not have disgraced an Indian, Will 
was out of doors, shouting, " Eat him up, Turk! Eat him up!" 

The owner of the opposing dog was one Steve Gobel. 'Twixt 
him and Will a good-sized feud existed. Steve was also on the 
scene, with a defiant, " Sic 'em. Nigger !" and the rest of the 
school followed in his wake. 



48 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

Of the twisting, yelping bundle of dogflesh that rolled from 
under the schoolhouse it was difficult to say which was Turk 
and which Nigger. Eliza and I called to Turk, and wept be- 
cause he would not hear. The teacher ordered the children 
back to their studies, but they were as deaf as Turk, whereat 
the enraged pedagogue hopped wildly about, flourishing a stick 
and whacking every boy that strayed within reach of it. 

Nigger soon had enough of the fight and striking his tail- 
colors, fled yelping from the battleground. His master, Steve 
Gobel, a large youth of nineteen or twenty years, pulled off his 
coat to avenge upon Will the dog's defeat, but the teacher 
effected a Solomon-like compromise by whipping both boys for 
bringing their dogs to school, after which the interrupted ses- 
sion was resumed. 

But Gobel nursed his wrath and displayed his enmity in a 
thousand small ways. Will paid no attention to him, but buck- 
led down to his school work. Will was a born " lady's man," 
and when Miss Jessie Kane complicated the feud 'twixt him 
and Steve, it hurried to its climax. Jessie was older than 
Will, but she plainlj'- showed her preference for him over Mas- 
ter Gobel. Steve had never distinguished himself in an Indian 
fight ; he was not a hero, but just a plain boy. 

Now, indeed, was Will's life become unendurable ; "patience 
had had its perfect work." He knew that a boy of twelve, 
however strong and sinewy, was not a match for an almost 
full-grown man ; so, to balance matters, he secreted on his 
person an old bowie-knife. When next he met Steve, the 
latter climaxed his bullying tactics by striking the object of 
his resentment, but he was unprepared for the sudden leap 
that bore him backward to the earth. Size and strength told 
swiftly in the struggle that succeeded, but Will, with a dex- 
terous thrust, put the point of the bowie into the fleshy part 
of Steve's lower leg, a spot where he knew the cut would not 
be serious. 

The stricken bully shrieked that he was killed ; the children 
gathered round and screamed loudly at the sight of blood. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 49 

" Will Cody has killed Steve Gobel ! " was the wailing cry, 
and Will, though he knew Steve was but pinked, began to 
realize that frontier styles of combat were not esteemed in 
communities given up to the soberer pursuits of spelling, 
arithmetic, and history. Steve, he knew, was more frightened 
than hurt, but the picture of the prostrate, ensanguined youth, 
and the group of awe-stricken children, bore in upon his mind 
the truth that his act was an infraction of the civil code ; that, 
even in self-defense, he had no right to use a knife unless his 
life was threatened. 

The irate pedagogue was hastening to the scene, and after 
one glance at him, Will incontinently fled. At the road he 
came upon a wagon train, and with a shout of joy recognized 
in the " Boss," John Willis, a wagon-master employed by Rus- 
sell, Majors & Waddell, and a great friend of the "boy 
extra's." Will climbed up behind Willis on his horse, and 
related his escapade to a close and sympathetic listener. 

" If you say so, Billy," was his comment, "I'll go over and 
lick the whole outfit and stampede the school." 

" No, let the school alone," replied Will ; "but I guess I'll 
graduate, if you'll let me go along with you this trip." 

Willis readily agreed, but insisted upon returning to the 
schoolhouse. "I'm not going, ' ' said he, ' ' to let you be beaten 
by a bully of a boy, and a Yankee school teacher with a little 
learning, but not a bit of sand." His idea of equalizing forces 
was that he and ' ' Little Billy ' ' should fight against the peda- 
gogue and Steve. 

Will consented, and they rode back to the schoolhouse, on 
the door of which Willis pounded with his revolver butt, and 
when the door was opened he invited Gobel and the ' ' grammar 
man ' ' to come forth and do battle. But Steve had gone home, 
the teacher fled, and the scholars, dismissing themselves, ran 
home in a fright. 

That night mother received a note from the teacher. 

He was not hired, he wrote, to teach desperadoes, therefore 
Will was dismissed. But Will had already dismissed himself, 



50 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

and had rejoined the larger school whose walls are the blue 
bowl called the sky. And long after was his name used by 
the pedagogue to conjure up obedience in his pupils : unless 
they kissed the rod they, too, might go to the bad and follow 
in Will Cody's erring footsteps. 

Willis and Will had gone but a piece on the road when 
horsemen were seen approaching. 

" Mr. Gobel and the officers are after me," said Will. 

"Being arter you, and gittin' you, are two different 
things," said the wagon-master. " I^ie low and I'll settle the 
men." 

Mr. Gobel and his party rode up with the information that 
they had come to arrest Will; but they got no satisfaction from 
Willis. He would not allow them to search the wagons, and 
they finally rode away. That night, when the camp was 
pitched, the wagon-master gave Will a mule and accompanied 
him home. We were rejoiced to see him, especially mother, 
who was much concerned over his escapade. 

"Oh, Will, how could you do such a thing?" she said, 
sorrowfully. " It is a dreadful act to use a knife on anyone." 

Will disavowed any homicidal intentions; but his explana- 
tions made little headway against mother's disapproval and 
her disappointment over the interruption of his school career. 
As it seemed the best thing to do, she consented to his going 
with the wagon train under the care of John Willis, and the 
remainder of the night was passed in preparations for the 
journey. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



THS VALI^BY GROVK HOUSE — A TRAPPING EXPEDITION AND 
A BRUSH WITH INDIANS— A CAVE OF HORRORS— THE DEATH 
AND BURIAI, OF TURK — A MILD ATTACK OF GOLD FEVER — 
WILL AS A PONY EXPRESS RIDER. 

HIS trip of Will's covered 
only two months, and was 
without adventure — stirring 
or otherwise. It was suc- 
ceeded by another uneventful 
expedition with a boss named 
Buck Bonier to the new post 
at Fort Wallace, at Cheyenne 
Pass. 

Meantime rnother had de- 
cided to improve the oppor- 
tunity afforded by her geogra- 
phical position, and under her 
^.^.-^<, .......-- :i:-~--,.,sr^-'-.:a^^ supervision "The Valley 

Grove House" was going up. This hotel was purchased, 
some years after niQther's death, by Dr. J. J. Crook, and 
burned while in his possession. Its ruins may be seen in Salt 
Creek Valley to this day. 

The hotel commanded a magnificent prospect. Below lay 
the beautiful Salt Creek Valley. It derived its name from the 
saline properties of the little stream that rushed along its pebbly 
bed to empty its clear waters into the muddy Missouri. From 
the vantage ground of our location Salt Creek looked like a 
silver thread winding its way through the rich verdure of the 
valley. The region was dotted with fertile farms ; from east to 

51 







52 LAST OF THE GREAT vSCOUTS. 

west ran the government road, known as the Old Salt Lake 
Trail, and back of us was Cody Hill, named for my father. 
Our house stood on the side hill, just above the military road, 
and between us and the hill-top lay the grove that gave the 
hotel its name. Government hill, which broke the eastern 
sky-line, hid Leavenworth and the Missouri River, culminat- 
ing to the south in Pilot Knob, the eminence on which my 
father was buried, also beyond our view. 

Mother's business sagacity was justified in the hotel ven- 
ture. The trail began its half-mile ascent of Cody Hill just 
below our house, and at this point the expedient known as 
" doubHng" was employed. Two teams hauled a wagon up 
the steep incline, the double team returning for the wagon left 
behind. Thus the always slow progress of a wagon train be- 
came a very snail' space, and the hotel was insured a full quota 
of hungry trainmen. 

Will found that his wages were a very considerable aid to 
mother in the large expense incurred by the building of the 
hotel, and the winter drawing on, forbidding further freight- 
ing trips, he planned an expedition with a party of trappers. 
More money was to be made at this business during the winter 
than at any other time. 

The trip was successful, and contained only one adventure 
spiced with danger, and this, as was so often the case, Will 
twisted to his own advantage by coolness and presence of mind. 

One morning, as he was making the round of his traps, three 
Indians appeared on the trail, each leading a pony laden Vvdth 
pelts. One had a gun ; the others carried bows and arrows. 
The odds were three to one, and the brave with the gun was 
the most to be feared. 

This Indian dropped his bridle-rein and threw up his rifle ; 
but before it was at his shoulder Will had fired, and he fell for- 
ward on his face. His companions bent their bows, one arrow 
passing through Will's hat and another piercing his arm ; the 
first wound he ever received. Will swung his cap about his 
head. 



LAST OP THE GREAT SCOUTS. 53 

' ' This way ! Here they are ! " he shouted to an imaginary 
party of friends at his back. Then with his revolver he wounded 
another of the Indians, who, believing reinforcements were at 
hand, left their ponies and fled. 

Will took the ponies on the double-quick back to camp, and 
the trappers decided to pull up stakes at once. It had been a 
profitable season, and the few more pelts to be had were not 
worth the risk of an attack by avenging Indians, so they 
packed their outfit and proceeded to Fort I,aramie. Will re- 
alized a handsome sum from the sale of his captured furs, be- 
sides those of the animals he had himself trapped. 

At the fort were two men bound east and impatient to set 
out ; and Will, in his haste to reach home, joined forces with 
them. Rather than wait for an uncertain wagon train, they 
decided to chance the dangers of the road. They bought three 
ponies and a pack mule for the camp outfit, and sallied forth 
in high spirits. 

The youngest of the party. Will was likewise the most ex- 
perienced plainsman, and was constantly on the alert. They 
reached the Little Blue River without sign of Indians, but 
across the stream Will espied a band of them. The redskins 
were as keen of eye, and straightway exchanged the pleasures 
of the chase for the more exciting pursuit of human game. 
But they had the river to cross, and this gave the white men a 
good start. The pursuit was hot, and grew hotter, but the 
kindly darkness fell, and under cover of it the trio got safely 
away. That night they camped in a little ravine that aftorded 
shelter from both Indians and weather. 

A look over the ravine disclosed a cave that promised a sang 
harbor, and therein Will and one of his companions spread 
their blankets and fell a.sleep. The third man whose duty it 
was to prepare the supper, kindled a fire just inside the cave, 
and returned outside for a supply of fuel. When he again 
entered the cave the whole interior was revealed by the danc- 
ing firelight, and after one look he gave a yell of terror, 
dropped his firewood and fled. 



54 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

Will and the other chap were on their knees instantly, grop- 
ing for their rifles, in the belief that the Indians were upon 
them ; but the sight that met their eyes was more terror-breed- 
ing at the first contact than the sight of a thousand Indians. 
A dozen bleached and ghastly skeletons were gathered with 
them around the campfire, and seemed to nod and sway, and 
thrust their long-chilled bones toward the cheery blaze. 

Ghastly as it was within the cave, Will found it more un- 
pleasant in the open. The night was cold, and a storm 
threatened. 

"Well," said he to his companions, "we know the worst 
that's in there now. It won't hurt us. Let's go back." 

" Not if I know myself , sonny," returned one of the men 
decidedly, and the other heartily agreed with him, swearing 
that as it was he should not be able to close his eyes for a 
week. So, after a hurried lunch upon the cold provisions, the 
party mounted their ponies and pushed on. The promised 
snowstorm materialized and shortly became a young blizzard, 
and obliged to dismount and camp in the open prairie, they 
made a miserable night of it. 

But it had an end, as all things have, and with the morning 
they resumed the trail, reaching Marysville on the Big Blue 
after many trials and privations. 

From here the trail was easier, as the country was pretty 
well settled and Will, having visited father's grave on the way, 
reached home without further adventure or misadventure. 
Here there was compensation for hardship in the joy of hand- 
ing over to mother all his money, realizing that it would 
lighten her burdens ; burdens borne that she might leave her 
children provided for when she could no longer repel the dread 
messenger, that in all those years seemed to hover so near 
that even our childish hearts felt its presence ere it actually 
crossed the threshold. 

- It was early in March when Will returned from his trapping 
expedition. Mother's business was flourishing, though she 
herself grew frailer with the passing of each day. The sum- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 55 

mer that came on was a sad one for us all, for it marked 
Turk's last days on earth. 

It was August, and as evening drew on the family repaired 
to the veranda to enjoy the cooling breeze. Turk lay in the 
yard. A strange dog came up the road, ran into the yard to 
give Turk a vicious bite, and went on. We dressed the 
wound, and thought little of it until some horsemen rode up 
with the inquirj^ : ' ' Have you seen a dog pass here ? ' ' 

We answered indignantly that a strange dog had passed, and 
had bitten our dog, 

" Better look out for him, then," warned the men as they 
rode away. " The dog is mad." 

Consternation seized us. It was dreadful to think of Turk 
going mad — he who had been our playmate from infancy, and 
who, through childhood's years, had grown as dear to us as 
many human beings could; but mother knew the matter was 
serious, and issued her commands: Turk must be shut up, 
and we must not even visit him for a certain space. And so 
we shut him up, hoping for the best, but, alas! it speedily be- 
came plain that the poison was working in his veins, and that 
the greatest kindness we could do him was to kill him. 

Will utterly refused to shoot him, and the execution was 
delegated to the hired man. Will stipulating that none of his 
weapons should be used, and that he be allowed to get out of 
ear-shot. 

The mournful duty discharged, we assembled in solemn 
conclave to plan the obsequies. Wiil procured a large block 
of the red bloodstone which abounded in that country, squared 
it off, and carved the name Turk upon it in large letters. Then 
a grave was dug, and to it we consigned, with many tears, the 
body of our faithful friend. Will, who called me " The Little 
Preacher," asked that I repeat the Lord's Prayer. This com- 
pleted the service. We filled up the grave, placed the blood- 
stone at its head, and returned home. 

To us there had been no incongruity in the funeral cere- 
monials and burial. Turk had given us all that dog could 



56 I,AST OF I'HE GREAT SCOUTvS. 

give; we, for our part, gave him Christian sepulture. Our 
sorrow was sincere. We had lost an honest, loyal friend. For 
many succeeding days his grave was garlanded with fresh 
flowers, placed there by loving hands. Vale Turk ! Would 
that our friends of the higher evolution were all as staunch as 
thou! 

THE BURIAL OF TURK. 

Only a dog ! but the tears fall fast 

As we lay him to rest underneath the green sod, 

Where bountiful natjjre, the sweet summer through, 
Will deck him witn daisies and bright goldenrod. 

The loving thought of a boyish heart 

Marks the old dog's grave with a bloodstone red; 

The name, carved in letters rough and rude, 

Keeps his memory green, though his life be sped. 

For the daring young hero of wood and plain, 
lyike all who are generous, strong and brave. 

Has a heart that is loyal and kind and true, 
And shames not to weep o'er his old friend's grave. 

Only a dog, do you say ? but I deem 

A dog who with faithfulness fills his trust. 

More worthy than many a man to be given 
A tribute of love, when but a.shes and dust. 

An unusually good teacher now presided at the schoolhouse 
in our neighborhood, and Will was again persuaded into edu- 
cational paths. He put in a hard winter's work; but with the 
coming of spring and its unrest — the swelling of buds and 
the springing of grass, the return of the birds and the twitter- 
ing from myriad nests — the Spirits of the Plains beckoned 
to him, and he joined a party of gold hunters on the long trail 
to Pike's Peak. 

The gold excitement was at its height in i860. By our 
house had passed the historic wagon bearing on its side the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 57 

classic motto, " Pike's Peak or Bust ! " Afterward, stranded 
by the wayside, a whole history of failure and disappointment, 
borne with grim humor, was told by the addition of the elo- 
quent word, " Busted ! " 

For all his adventures, Will was only fourteen, and although 
tall for his age, he had not the physical strength that might 
have been expected from his hardy life. It was not strange 
that he should take the gold fever ; less strange that mother 
should dread to see him again leave home to face unknown 
perils; and it is not at all remarkable that upon reaching Aura- 
ria, now Denver, he should find that fortunes were not lying 
around much more promiscuously in a gold country than in 
any other. 

Recent events have confirmed a belief that under the excite- 
ment of a gold craze men exercise less judgment than at any 
other time. Except in placer mining, which almost any one 
can learn, gold mining is a science. Now and again a nugget 
worth a fortune is picked up, but the average mortal can get a 
better livelihood, with half the work, in almost any other 
field of effort. To become rich a knowledge of ores and min- 
ing methods is indispensable. 

But Will never reached the gold fields. Almost the first 
person he met on the streets of Julesberg was George Chris- 
man, who had been chief wagon-master for Russell, Majors 
& Waddell. Will had become well acquainted with Chrisman 
on the various expeditions he had made for the firm. 

This man was located at Julesberg as agent for the Pony 
Express line, which was in process of formation. This line 
was an enterprise of Russell, Majors & Waddell. Mr. 
Russell met in Washington the senator from California. This 
gentleman knew that the Western firm of contractors was run- 
ning a daily stage-coach from the Missouri River to Sacra- 
mento, and he urged upon Mr. Russell the desirability of the 
firm operating a pony express line along the same route. 
There was already a line known as the ' ' Butterfield Route, ' ' 
but this was circuitous; the fastest time ever made on it was 
twenty-one days. 



58 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

Mr. Russell laid the matter before his partners. They were 
opposed to it, as they were sure it would be a losing venture; 
but the senior member urged the matter so strongly that they 
consented to try it for the good of the country, with no expec- 
tation of profit. They utilized the stage-coach stations already 
established, and only about two mouths were required to put 
the Pony Express line in running order. 

Riders received from a hundred and twenty to a hundred 
and twenty-five dollars a month, but they earned it. In 
order to stand the life great physical strength and endurance 
were necessary; in addition, riders must be cool, brave and 
resourceful. Their lives were in constant peril, and they were 
obliged to do double duty in case the comrade that was to 
relieve them had been disabled by outlaws or Indians. 

Two hundred and fifty miles was the daily distance that 
must be made; this constituted an average of a little over ten 
miles an hour. In the exceedingly rough country this aver- 
age could not be kept up; to balance it, there were a few 
places in the route where the rider was expected to cover 
twenty-five miles an hour. 

In making such a run it is hardly necessary to say that no 
extra weight was carried. I^etters were written on the finest 
tissue paper; the charge was at the rate of five dollars for 
half an ounce. A hundred of these letters would make a bulk 
not much larger than an ordinary writing-tablet. 

The mail pouches were never to carry more than twenty 
pounds. They were leather bags, impervious to moisture ; 
the letters, as a further protection, were wrapped in oiled silk. 
The pouches were locked, sealed and strapped to the rider's 
side. They were not unlocked during the journey from St. 
Joseph to Sacramento. 

The first trip was made in ten days; this was a saving of eleven 
daysover the best time ever made by the "Butterfield Rente." 
Sometimes the time was shortened to eight days ; but an aver- 
age trip was made in nine. The distance covered in this time 
was nineteen hundred andsixty-.six miles. 



LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS. 59 

President Buchanan's last presidential message was carried 
in December, i860, in a few hours over eight days. President 
L,incoln's inaugural the following March was transmitted in 
seven da3-s and seventeen hours. This was the quickest trip 
ever made. 

The Pony Express line made its worth at once felt. It would 
have become a financial success but that a telegraph line was 
put into operation over the same stretch of territory, under the 
direction of Mr. Edward Creighton. The first message was 
sent over the wires the 24th of October, 1861. The Pony Ex- 
press line had outlived its usefulness, and was at once discon- 
tinued. But it had accomplished its main purpose, which was 
to determine whether the route by which it went could be made 
a permanent track for travel the year through. The cars of the 
Union Pacific road afterw^ard traveled nearly the same old 
trails as that followed by the daring riders of frontier days. 

Mr. Chrismau gave Will a cordial greeting. He explained 
the business of the express line to his young friend, and stated 
that the company had nearly perfected its arrangements. It 
was now buying ponies and putting them into good condition 
preparatory to beginning operations. He added, jokingly: 

"It's a pity 5'ou' re not a few years older, Billy. I would 
give you a job as Pony Express rider. There's good pay in 
it." 

Will was at once greatly taken with the idea, and begged so 
hard to be given a trial that Mr. Chrisman consented to give 
him work for a month. If the life proved too hard for him he 
was to be laid off at the end of that time. He had a short run 
of forty-five miles ; there were three relay stations, and he was 
expected to make fifteen miles an hour. 

The third of April, i860, Mr. Russell stood ready to receive 
the mail from a fast New York train at St. Joseph. He ad- 
justed the letter pouch on the pony in the presence of an ex- 
cited crowd. Besides the letters, several large New York papers 
printed special editions on tissue paper for this inaugural trip. 
The crowd plucked hairs from the tail of the first animal to 



6o LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

Start ou the uovel journey, and preserved these hairs as talis- 
mans. Tlie rider mounted, the moment for starting came, the 
signal was given and off he dashed. 

At the same moment Sacramento witnessed a similar scene ; 
the rider of that region started on the two thousand mile ride 
eastward as the other started westward. All the way along the 
road the several other riders were ready for their initial gallop. 

Will looked forward eagerly to the day when the express 
line should be set in motion, and when the hour came it found 
him ready, standing beside his horse and waiting for the rider 
whom he was to relieve. There was a clatter of hoofs, and a 
horseman dashed up and flung him the saddle bags. Will 
threw them upon the waiting pony, vaulted into the saddle 
and was off like the wind. 

The first relay station was reached on time, and Will changed 
with hardly a second's loss of time, while the panting, reeking 
animal he had ridden was left to the care of the stock-tender. 
This was repeated at the end of the second fifteen miles, and 
the last station was reached a few minutes ahead of time. The 
return trip was made in good order, and then Will wrote to us 
of his new position, and told us that he was in love with the 
life. 



CHAPTER IX. 



THE PONY EXPRESS IS "HELD UP " — ANOTHER TRAPPING 
EXPEDITION — FIGHT WITH A BEAR — A BROKEN LEG — 
ALONE IN THE DUG-OUT — AN INDIAN VISIT, AND A 
TOUCH OF AULD LANG SYNE — A DESPERATE SITUATION 
— AN ELEVENTH-HOUR RESCUE — HOME AGAIN — DEATH 
OF DAVE PHILLIPS. 

FTER being pounded against a 
saddle, three dashes daily for 
three months, to the tune of 
fifteen miles an hour, Will 
began to feel a little loose in 
his joints, and weary withal, 
but he was determined to 
"stick it out." Besides the 
daily pounding, the track of 
the Pony Express rider was 
strewn with perils. A way- 
farer through that wild land 
was as like to run afoul of out- 
laws and Indians as to pass 
unmolested, and as it was known that packages of value were 
frequently dispatched by the Pony Express line, the route was 
punctuated by ambuscades. 

Will had an eye out every trip for a hold-up, but three 
months went by before he added that novelty to his other 
experiences. One day, as he flew around a bend in a narrow 
pass, he confronted a huge revolver in the grasp of a man who 
manifestly meant business, and whose salutation was : 
" Halt ! Throw up your hands ! " 

6i 




62 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

Most people do, and Will's hands were raised reluctantly. 
The highwayman advanced, saying, not unkindly : 

" I don't want to hurt you, boy, but I do want them bags." 

Money packages were in the saddle-bags, and Will was 
minded to save them if he could, so, as the outlaw reached for 
the booty, Will touched the pony with his foot, and the upshot 
was satisfactory to an unexpected degree. The plunge upset 
the robber, and as the pony swept over him he got a vicious 
blow from one hoof. Will wheeled for a revolver duel, but tlie 
foe was prostrate, stunned, and bleeding at the head. Will 
disarmed the fellow and pinioned his arms behind him, and 
then he tied up his broken head. The prisoner must have 
a horse hidden hard by, and a bit of a search disclosed it. When 
Will returned with the animal its owner had opened his eyes 
and was beginning to remember a few things. Will helped 
him to mount, and out of pure kindness tied him on ; then he 
straddled his own pony and towed the dismal outfit to the next 
station. Here the prisoner was left with the stock-tender, and 
the Pony Express rider was off again, trying to make up for 
lost time. 

It was the first time that he had been behind on his run, but 
by way of excuse he offered to Mr. Chrisman a broken-headed 
and dejected gentleman tied to a horse's back ; and Chrisman, 
with a grin, locked the excuse up for future reference. 

A few days after this episode Will received a letter from 
Julia, telling him that mother was ill and asking him to come 
home. He at once sought out Mr. Chrisman, and giving his 
reason, asked to be relieved. 

"I'm sorry your mother is sick," was the answer, "but 
I'm glad something has occurred to make you quit this life. 
It's wearing you out, Billy, and you're too gritty to give it up 
without a good reason." 

Will reached home to find mother on the high road to 
recovery, over the rough places of which she passed swiftly 
with the support of his presence. For three weeks was he con- 
tent to remain idly at home; then (it was November of i860) 



LAST OB^ THE GREAT SCOUTS. 63 

his unquiet spirit bore him away on another trapping expedi- 
tion ; this time with a young friend named David PhilHps. 

They bought an ox team and wagon to transport the traps, 
camp outfit and provisions, and took along a large supply of 
ammunition besides extra rifles. Their destination was the 
Republican River, It coursed more than a hundred miles 
from Leavenworth, but the country about it was reputed rich 
in beaver. Will acted as scout on the journey, going ahead to 
pick out trails, locate camping grounds and look out for 
breakers. The information concerning the beaver proved cor- 
rect; the game was indeed so plentiful that they concluded to 
pitch a permanent camp and see the winter out. 

They chose a hollow in a side hill and enlarged it to the 
dimensions of a decent-sized room. A floor of logs was put 
In, and a chimney fashioned of stones, the open lower part 
doing double duty as cook stove and heater; the bed was 
spread in the rear, and the wagon sheltered the entrance. A 
corral of poles was built for the oxen, and one corner of it pro- 
tected by boughs. Altogether, they accounted their winter 
quarters thoroughly satisfactory and agreeable. 

The boys had seen no Indians on their trip out, and were 
not concerned in that quarter, though they were too good 
plainsmen to relax their vigilance. There were other foes, as 
they discovered the first night in their new quarters. They 
were aroused by a commotion in the corral where the oxen 
were confined, and hurrying out with their rifles, they found 
a huge bear intent upon a feast of beef. The oxen were bel- 
lowing in terror, one of them dashing crazily about the en- 
closure, and the other so badly hurt that it could not get up. 

Phillips, who was in the lead, fired first, but succeeded only 
in wounding the bear. Pain v\'as now added to the savagery 
of hunger, and the infuriated monster rushed upon Phillips. 
Dave leaped back, but his foot slipped on a bit of ice, and he 
went down with a thud, his rifle flying from his hand as he 
struck. 

But there v/as a cool young head and a steady hand behind 



64 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

him. A ball from Will's rifle entered the distended mouth of 
the onrushing bear and pierced the brain, and the huge mass 
fell lifeless almost across Dave's body. 

Phillips's nerves loosened with a snap, and he laughed for 
very relief as he seized Will's hands. 

"That's the time you saved my life, old fellow !" said he. 
"Perhaps I can do as much for you some time." 

"That's the first bear I ever killed," said Will, more inter- 
ested in that topic than in the one Dave held forth on. 

One of the oxen was found to be mortally hurt, and a bullet 
ended its misery. Will then took his first lesson in the gentle 
art of skinning a bear. 

Dave's chance to square his account with Will came a fort- 
night later. They were chasing a bunch of elk, when Will 
fell, and discovered that he could not rise. 

"I'm afraid I've broken my leg," said he, as Dave ran to 
him. 

Phillips had once been a medical student, and he examined 
the leg with a professional eye. "You're right, Billy; the 
leg's broken," he reported. 

Then he went to work to improvise splints and bind up the 
leg; and this done, he took Will on his back and bore him to 
the dugout. Here the leg was stripped and set in carefully 
prepared splints, and the whole bound up securely. 

The outlook was unpleasant, cheerfully as one might regard 
it. Living in the scoop of a side-hill when one is strong and 
able to get about and keep the blood coursing, is one thing; 
living there pent up through a tedious winter, is quite another. 
Dave meditated as he worked away at the pair of crutches. 

" Tell you what I think I'd better do," said he. "The 
nearest settlement is some hundred miles awa}^ and I can get 
there and back in twenty days. Suppose I make the trip, get 
a team for our wagon, and come back for you ?" ' T' ^a j-J^ 

The idea of being left alone and well-nigh helpless struck 
dismay to Will's heart, but thtre was no help for it, and he 
assented. Dave put matters into ship shape, piled wood in 



LAST CF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 65 

the dugout, cooked a quantity of food and put it where Will 
could reach it without rising, and fetched several days' supply 
of water. Mother, ever mindful of Will's education, had put 
some school books in the wagon, and Dave placed these beside 
the food and water. When Phillips finally set out, driving 
the surviving ox before him, he left behind a very lonely and 
homesick boy. 

During the first day of his confinement Will felt too desolate 
to eat, much less read, but as he grew accustomed to solitude 
he derived real pleasure from the companionship of books. 
Perhaps in all his life he never extracted so much benefit from 
study as during that brief period of enforced idleness, when it 
was his sole means of making the dragging hours endurable. 
Dave, he knew, could not return in less than twenty days, and 
one daily task, never neglected, was to cut a notch in the stick 
tliat marked the humdrum passage of the days. Within the 
week he could hobble about on his crutches for a short dis- 
tance; after that he felt more secure. 

A fortnight passed. And one day, vv^eary with his studies, 
he fell asleep over his books. Some one touched his shoulder, 
and looking up, he saw an Indian in war paint and feather.'^^. 

" How? " said Will, with a show of friendliness, thougli he 
knew the brave was on the war-path. 

Half a score of bucks followed at the heels of the first, squeez- 
ing into the little dugout until there was barely room for them 
to sit down. 

With a sinking heart Will watched them enter, but he 
plucked up spirit again when the la.^t, a chief, pushed in, for 
in this warrior he recognized an Indian that he had once dene 
a good turn. 

Whatever Lo's faults, he never forgets a kindness, anymore 
than he forgets an injiiry. The chief, v.'ho went by the name 
of Rain-in-the-Face, at once recognized Will, and asked him 
what he Vi^as doing in that place. Will displayed ]ns bandages 
and related the mishap that had made then necessary, and 
refreshed the chief's memory of a certain occasion v."hen a 



66 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

blanket and provisions had drifted his way. Rain-in-the-Face 
replied, with proper gravity, that he and his chums were out 
after scalps, and confessed to designs upon Will's, but in 
consideration of Auld Lang Syne he would spare the pale-face 
boy. 

Auld Lang Syne, however, did not save the blankets and 
provisions, and the bedizened crew stripped the dugout almost 
bare of supplies ; but Will was thankful enough to see the back 
of the last of them. 

Two days later a blizzard set in. Will took an inventory 
and found that, economy considered, he had food for a week ; 
but as the storm would surely delay Dave he put himself on 
half rations. 

Three weeks were now gone and he looked for Dave mo- 
mentarily ; but as night followed day, and day grew into night 
again, he was given over to keen anxiety. Had Phillips 
lost his way ? Had he failed to locate the snow-covered dug- 
out ? Had he perished in the storm ? Had he fallen victim to 
Indians ? These and like questions haunted the poor lad con- 
tinually. Study became impossible, and he lost his appetite for 
what food there was left ; but the tally on the stick was kept. 

The twenty-ninth day dawned. Starvation stalked into the 
dugout. The wood, too, was nigh gone. But great as was 
Will's physical suffering, his mental distress was greater. He 
sat before a handful of fire, shivering and hungry, wretched 
and despondent. 

Hark ! Was that his name? Choking with emotion, unable 
to articulate, he listened intently. Yes ! it was his name, and 
Dave's familiar voice, and with all his remaining energy he 
made an answering call. 

His voice enabled Phillips to locate the dugout, and a pas- 
sage was cleared through the snow. And when Will .saw the 
door open the tension on his nerves let go, and he wept — 
" like a girl," as he afterward told us. 

" God bless you, Dave! " he cried, as he clasped his friend 
around the neck. 



I,AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS, 67 

"I told you my time would come," said Phillips. "We 
can call it quits. ' ' 

"Shooting a bear is sport," answered Will, "but you 
have dug through snowdrifts, endured suffering and risked 
your life to help me. I'm in your debt, and always shall be." 

Dave's comment Avas to prepare a square meal, which was 
mutually relished, and during its discussion the boys com- 
pared notes. When Will reached the incident of the Indian 
raid Dave cried excitedly, "Did they steal our pelts?" and 
rushed from the dugout, but the pelts were safe where they 
had been hidden. 

Such slow and laborious traveling was promised by the deep 
snow that the boys concluded to remain in camp until winter 
broke. Dave attended to the traps while Will hobbled about in- 
doors and did the cooking. The broken leg was nearly 
mended when the weather suffered them to depart for home. 

They paid for the hired ox in skins at the ranch that Da\ e 
had visited, and pushing on to Junction City, they sold their 
entire outfit, pelts included, for a good price. Then they 
joined a wagon train and were soon at home. 

Will had become so attached to Phillips that, at his instance, 
mother asked the young man to remain with us as overseer of 
the farm. He consented willingly, but the winter's roughing 
it had been too great a draft upon his vitality. A cold set- 
tled on his lungs and developed into pneumonia, and after an 
illness of five days, in which he was nursed as one of the fam- 
ily, he died. Will's sorrow was intense, and the whole house- 
hold was shadowed by the sudden death. We had adopted 
Will's friend as our own, and his remains were placed in cur 
family burying ground. 



CHAPTER X. 



ECHOES FROM SUMTER — A STATION ON THE UNDERGROUND 
RAILWAY — UNCLE TOM AND HIS SUFFERINGS — WILL DROPS 
HLS FIRST BUFFALO, AND SAVES A LIFE — WITH THE PONY 
EXPRESS AGAIN — CALIFORNIA JOE — INDIAN TROUBLES — 
WILD BILL. 

[HE guns that opened on Fort 
Sumter set the country all 
ablaze. In Kansas, where 
blood had already been shed, 
the excitement was at an ex- 
traordinary pitch. Will was 
for enlisting, but mother would 
not listen to the idea. 

My brother had never for- 
gotten the vow made over 
father's prostrate form, to 
wreak vengeance upon his 
murderer and the men who had 
hounded him to his grave, and 
when the vow chafed his spirit 
mother would expostulate with 
him, and point out that 'twere murder to take their lives, what- 
ever the provocation. But now, with the coming of war, his 
opportunity was seemingly ripe and lawful ; he could at least 
take up arms against his old-time enemies, and at the same 
time serve his country. This aspect of the case was presented 
to mother in glowing colors, backed by most eloquent plead- 
ing, but she remained obdurate. 

"You are too young to enlist, Willie," she said. "They 
Vvculd not accept you, and if they did I could not endure it. I 
68 




LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 69 

have only a little time to live, for my sake, then, wait till I am 
no more before you enter the army." 

This request v\ras not to be disregarded, and Will promised 
that he would not enlist while mother lived. 

Kansas had long been the scene of bitter strife between the 
two parties, and though there was a preponderance of the Free- 
Soil element when it was admitted to the Union in 1 861, we 
were fated to see somewhat of the horrors of slavery. Suffer- 
ing makes one wondrous kind ; mother had suffered so much 
herself that the misery of others ever vibrated a chord of sym- 
pathy in her breast, and our house became a station on " the 
underground railway." Many a fugitive slave did we shelter, 
many here received food and clothing, and aided by mother, a 
great number reached safe harbors. 

One old man, named Uncle Tom, became so much attached 
to us that he refused to go on. We kept him as help about 
the hotel, always giving him work that could be done privately. 
He was with us several months, and we children grew very 
fond of him. Every evening when supper was over, he sat 
before the kitchen fire and told a breathless audience strange 
stories of the days of slavery. And one evening, never to be 
forgotten. Uncle Tom was sitting in his acccustomed place sur- 
rounded by his juvenile listeners, when he suddenly sprang to 
his feet with a cry of terror. Some men had entered the hotel 
sitting-room, and the sound of their voices drove Uncle Tom 
to his own little room, and under the bed. 

" Mrs. Cody," said the unwelcome visitors, " we understand 
that 5'ou are harboring our runaway slaves. We propose to 
search the premises ; and if we find our property you cannot 
object to our removing it." 

Mother was sorely distressed for the unhappy Uncle Tom, 
but she knew objection would be futile. She could only hope 
that the old colored man had made good his escape. 

But no ! Uncle Tom lay quaking under his bed, and there 
his brutal master found him. It is not impossible that there 
were slaveholders kind and humane, but the bitter curse of 



70 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

slavery was the open door it left for brutality and inhumanity, 
and never shall I forget the barbarity displayed by the owner 
of Uncle Tom before our horrified eyes. The poor slave was 
so old that his hair was wholly white, yet a rope was tied to it, 
and despite our pleadings he was dragged from the house, every 
cry he uttered evoking only a savage kick from a heavy riding 
boot. When he was out of sight and his screams out of hear- 
ing, we wept bitterly on mother's loving breast. 

Uncle Tom again escaped and made his way to our house, 
but he reached it only to die. We sorrowed for the poor old 
slave, but thanked God that he had passed beyond the inhu- 
manity of man. 

Debarred from serving his country as a soldier, Will decided 
to do so in some other capacity, and accordingly took vservice 
with a United States freight caravan, transporting supplies to 
Fort Laramie. On this trip his frontier training and skill as a 
marksman were the means of saving a life. 

In Western travel the perils from outlaws and Indians were 
so real that emigrants usually sought the protection of a large 
wagon train. Several families of emigrants journeyed under 
the wing of the caravan to which Will was attached. 

When in camp one day upon the bank of the Platte River, 
and the members of the company were busied with preparations 
for the night's rest and the next day's journey, Mamie Perkins, 
a little girl from one of the emigrant families, was sent to the 
river for a pail of water, a moment before a mon.ster buffalo was 
seen rushing upon the camp. A chorus of yells and a fusilade 
from rifles and revolvers neither checked nor swerved him. 
Straight through the camp he swept like a cyclone, leaping 
ropes and boxes, overturning wagons, and smashing things 
generally. 

Mamie, the little water-bearer, had filled her pail and was re- 
turning in the track selected by the buffalo. Too terrified to 
move, she v/atched, with white face and parted lips, the mad- 
dened animal sweep toward her, head down and tail up, its 
hoofs beating a thunderous tattoo on the plain. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 7 1 

Will had been asleep, but the commotion brought him to his 
feet, and snatching up his rifle he ran toward the little girl. 
The hope aroused in the camp by this action vanished as Will 
swerved to one side. But the move was to enable him to take 
aim at the forehead of the buffalo. All buffalo hunters know 
that the only vulnerable point of the monarch of the prairie is 
a little spot bet\veen the eyes. Will, who was running, sud- 
denly turned, brought up his rifle, and fired. The buffalo 
lurched, staggered a few yards farther, then dropped within 
half a dozen feet of the terrified child. 

A shout of relief went up, and while a crowd of praising 
men gathered about the embryo buffalo hunter, Mamie was 
taken to her mother, who had swooned. When she recovered 
consciousness, Mrs. Perkins and her husband were voluble 
in their thanks and admiration. Will never relished hearing 
his praises sung, and as the camp was determined to pedestal 
him as a hero, ran away and hid in his tent. 

Upon reaching Fort Laramie Will's first business was to 
look up Alf Slade, agent of the Pony Express line, whose 
headquarters were at Horseshoe Station, twenty miles from the 
fort. He carried a letter of recommendation from Mr. Russell, 
but Slade demurred. 

"You're too young for a Pony Express rider," said he. 

"I rode three months a year ago, sir, and I'm much 
stronger now/ ' said Will. 

" Oh, are you the boy rider that was on Chrisman's divi- 
sion ? ' ' 

"Yes, sir." 

" All right, I'll try you. If you can't stand it I'll give you 
something easier." 

Will's run was from Red Buttes, on the North Platte, to 
Three Crossings, on the Sweetwater — seventy-six miles. 

The wilderness was of the kind that is supposed to howl, 
and no person fond of excitement had reason to complain of 
lack of it. One day Will arrived at his last station to find that 
the rider on the next run had been mortally hurt by Indians. 



72 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

There being no one else to do it, he volunteered to ride the 
eighty-five miles for the wounded man. He accomplished it, 
and made his own return trip on time — a continuous ride of 
three hundred and twenty-two miles. There was no rest for 
the rider, but twenty-one horses were used on the run — the 
longest ever made by a Pony Express rider. 

Shortly afterward Will fell in with California Joe, a remark- 
able frontier character. He was standing beside a group of 
boulders that edged the trail when Will first clapped e5'es on 
him, and the Pony Expressman instantly reached for his re- 
volver. The stranger as quickly dropped his rifle and held up 
his hands in token of friendliness. Will drew rein and ran an 
interested eye over the man, who was clad in buckskin. 

California Joe, who was made famous in General Custer's 
book entitled ' ' Life on the Plains, ' ' was a man of wonderful 
physique, straight and stout as a pine. His red-brown hair 
hung in curls below his shoulders; he wore a full beard, and 
his keen, sparkling eyes were of the brightest hue. He came 
from an Eastern family, and possessed a good education, some- 
what rusty from disuse. 

"Hain't you the boy rider I has heard of — the j^oungest 
rider on the trail?" he queried, in the border dialect. Will 
made an affirmative answer, and gave his name. 

" Waal," said Joe, " I guess you've got some money on this 
trip. I was strikin' fer the Big Horn, and I found them two 
stiffs up yonder layin' fer ye. We had a little misunder- 
standin', and now I has 'em to plant." 

Will thanked him warmly, and begged him not to risk the. 
perils of the Big Horn ; but California Joe only laughed, and 
told him to push ahead. 

When Will reached his station he related his adventure, and 
the stock-tender said it was "good-bye, California Joe." But 
Will had conceived a better opinion of his new friend, and he 
predicted his safe return. 

This confidence was justified by the appearance of California 
Joe, three months later, in the camp of the Pony Riders on the 



LAST OF THE CxREAT SCOUTS. 73 

Overland trail. He received a cordial greeting, and was as- 
sured by the men that they had not expected to see him alive 
again. In return he told them his story, and a very interest- 
ing story it was. 

" Some time ago," said he (I shall not attempt to reproduce 
his dialect) ' ' a big gang of gold-hunters went into the Big 
Horn country. They never returned, and the general sent 
me to see if I could get any trace of them. The country is full 
of Indians, and I kept my eye skinned for them, but I wasn't 
looking for trouble from white men. I happened to leave my 
revolver where I ate dinner one day, and soon after discovering 
the loss I went back after the gun. Just as I picked it up I 
saw a white man on my trail. I smelled trouble, but turned 
and jogged along as if I hadn't seen anything. That night I 
doubled back over my trail until I came to the camp where the 
stranger belonged. As I expected, he was one of a party of 
three, but they had five horses. I'll bet odds, Pard Billy " — 
this to Will — " that the two pilgrims laying for you belonged 
to this outfit. 

" They thought I'd found gold, and were going to follow me 
until I struck the mine, then do me up and take possession. 

"The gold is there, too, lots of it. There's silver, iron, cop- 
per and coal, too, but no one will look at them so long as gold 
is to be had ; but those that go for gold will, many of them, 
leave their scalps behind. 

" We kept the trail day after day ; the men stuck right to 
me, the chap ahead keeping me in sight and marking out the 
trail for his pard. When we got into the heart of the Indian 
country I had to use every caution ; I steered clear of evefry 
smoke that showed a village or camp, and didn't use my rifle 
on game, depending on the rations I had with me. 

"At last I came to a spot that showed signs of a battle. 
Skulls and bones were strewn around, and after a look about I 
was satisfied beyond doubt that white men had been of the 
company. The purpose of my trip was accomplished ; I could 
safely report that the party of whites had been exterminated 
by Indians. 



74 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

" The question now was, could I return without running 
into Indians ? The first thing was to give my white pursuers 
the slip. 

" That night I crept down the bed of a small stream, passed 
their camp, and struck the trail a half mile or so below. 

" It was the luckiest move I ever made. I had ridden but 
a short distance when I heard the familiar war-whoop, and 
knew that the Indians had surprised my unpleasant acquaint- 
ances and taken their scalps. I should have shared the same 
fate if I hadn't moved. 

" But, boys, it is a grand and beautiful country, full of tow- 
ering mountains, lovely valleys and mighty trees." 

About the middle of September the Indians became very 
troublesome along the Sweetwater. Will was ambushed 
cue day, but fortunately he was mounted on one of the fleetest 
of the company's hor.ses and, lying fiat on the animal's back, 
he distanced the redskins. At the relay station he found the 
stock-tender dead, and as the horses had teen driven ofT, he 
was unable to get a fresh mount, so he rode the same horse to 
Plontz Station, twelve miles farther. 

A few days later the station boss of the line hailed Will M'ith 
the information : 

" There's Injun signs about, so keep your eyes open." 

" I'm on the watch, boss," was Will's answer, as he ex- 
changed ponies and dashed away. 

The trail ran through a grim wild. It was darkened by 
mountains, overhung with cliffs, and fringed with monster 
pines. The young rider's every sense had been sharpened by 
frontier dangers. Each dusky rock and tree was scanned for 
signs of lurking foes as he clattered down the twilight track. 

One large boulder lay in plain view far down the valley, 
and for a second he saw a dark object appear above it. 

He kept his course until within rifle shot, and then suddenly 
swerved away in an oblique line. The ambush had failed, and 
a puff of smoke issued from behind the boulder. Two braves 
in gorgeous war paint sprang up, and at the same time a score 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 75 

of whooping Indians rode out of the timber on the other sidij 
of the valley. 

Before Will the mountains sloped to a narrow pass; could 
he reach that he would be comparatively safe. The Indians, 
at the boulder were unmounted, and though they were fleet of 
foot he easily left them behind. The mounted reds were those 
to be feared, and the chief rode a very fleet pony. As they neared 
the pass Will saw that it was life against life. He drew his 
revolver, and the chief, for his part, fitted an arrow to his bow. 
Will was a shade the quicker. His revolver cracked, and the 
warrior pitched dead from his saddle. His fall was the signal 
for a shower of arrows, one of which wounded the pony slightly; 
but the station was reached on time. 

The Indians were now in evidence all the time. Between 
Split Rock and Three Crossings they robbed a stage, killed 
the driver and two passengers, and wounded Lieutenant Flow- 
ers, the assistant division agent. The}' drove the stock from 
the stations, and continually harassed the Pony Express riders 
and stage drivers. So bold did the reds become that the Pony 
riders were laid off for six weeks, though stages were to make 
occasional runs if the business were urgent. A force was or- 
ganized to search for missing stock. There were forty men in 
the party — stage drivers, express riders, stock-tenders and 
ranchmen ; and they were captained by a plainsman named 
Wild Bill, who was a good friend of Will's for many years. 

He had not earned the sobriquet through lawlessness. It 
merely denoted his dashing and daring. Physically, he was 
well-nigh faultless — tall, straight and symmetrical, with broad 
shoulders and splendid chest. He was handsome of face, with 
a clear blue eye, firm and well-shaped mouth, aquiline nose, 
and brown, curling hair, worn long upon his shoulders. Born 
of a refined and cultured family he, like Will, seemingl}' in- 
herited from some remote ancestor his passion for the wild, 
free life of the plains. 

At this time Wild Bill was a well-known scout, and in this 
capacity served the United States to good purpose during the 
war. 



CHAPTER XI. 



THE WORK OF THE "bLACK WATER, ' ' AND THE RETRIBUTION — 
A SHORT BUT DASHING INDIAN CAMPAIGN — A BEAR HUNT 
WITHOUT A BEA R — IN A DEN OF HORSE THIEVES — WHAT 
CAME OF PICKING UP SAGE HENS — GOVERNMENT FREIGHT- 
ING. 

S Will was one of the laid-off 
riders he was allowed to join 
the expedition against the In- 
dian depredators, though he 
was the j^oungest member of 
the company by perhaps twice 
his years. 

The campaign was short and 
sharp. The Indian trail was 
followed to Powder River, and 
thence along the banks of the 
stream the party traveled to 
within forty miles of the spot 
" where old Fort Reno now 

stands ; from here the trail ran westerly, at the foot of the 
mountains, and was crossed by Crazy Woman's Fork, a tribu- 
tary of the Powder. 

Originally this branch stream went by the name of the Big 
Beard, because of a peculiar grass that fringed it. On its bank 
had stood a village of the Crow Indians, and here a half-breed 
trader came and settled. He bought the red man's furs and 
gave him in return bright colored beads, and pieces of calico, 
and paints, and blankets. In a short time he had all the furs 
in the village ; he packed them on ponies and said good-bye to 
76 




LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 77 

his Indian friends. They were sorry .to see him go, but he told 
them he would soon return from the laud of the pale- face bring- 
i::g many gifts. Months passed ; one day the Indian sentinels 
reported the approach of a strange object. The village was 
alarmed, for the Crows had never seen ox, horse or wagon; but 
the excitement was allaj^ed when it was found that the strange 
outfit was the property of the half-breed trader. 

He had brought with him his wife, a white woman ; she, 
too, was an object of much curiosity to the Indians. 

The trader built a lodge of wood and stones, and exposed 
all his goods for sale. He had brought beads, ribbons and brass 
rings as gifts for all the tribe. 

One day the big chief visited the store : the trader led him 
into a back room, swore him to secrecy, and gave him a drink 
of black water. The chief felt strangely happy. Usually he 
was very dignified and stately ; but under the influence of the 
strange liquid he sang and danced on the streets, and finally 
fell into a deep sleep from which he could not be wakened. 
This performance was repeated day after day until the Indians 
called a council of war. They said the trader had bewitched 
their chief and it must be stopped, or they would kill the in- 
truder. A warrior was sent to convey this intelligence to the 
trader ; he laughed, took the warrior into the back room, 
swore him to secrecy , and gave him a drink of the black water. 
The young Indian in his turn went upon the .street and laughed 
and sang and danced, just as the chief had done. Surprised, 
his companions gathered around him and asked him what was 
the matter. "Oh, go to the trader and get some of the black 
water !" said he. 

They asked for the strange beverage. The trader denied 
having any, and gave them a drink of ordinary water, which 
had no effect. When the young warrior awoke, they again 
questioned him. He said he must have been sick, and have 
spoken loosely. 

After this the chief and warrior were both drunk every day, 
and the tribe Vv^ere sorely perplexed. Another council of war 



78 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

was held, and a young chief arose, saying that he had made a 
hole in the wall of the trader's house, and had watched ; and 
it was true the trader gave their friends black water. The half- 
breed and the two unhappy Indians were brought before the 
council, and the young chief repeated his accusation, saying 
that if it were not true, they might fight him. The second 
victim of the black water yet denied the story, and said the 
young chief lied ; but the trader had maneuvered into the po- 
sition he desired, and he confessed. They bade him bring the 
water that they might taste it ; but before he departed the 
young chief challenged to combat the warrior that had said he 
lied. This warrior was the best spearsman of the tribe, and 
all expected the death of the young chief ; but the black water 
had palsied the warrior's arm, his trembling hand could not 
fling true, he was pierced to the heart at the first thrust. The 
tribe then repaired to the trader's lodge, and he gave them all 
a drink of the black water. They danced and sang, and then 
lay upon the ground and slept. 

After two or three days the half-breed declined to provide 
black water free ; if the warriors wanted it, they must pay for 
it. At first he gave them a " sleep " as they called it, for one 
robe or skin, but as the stock of black water diminished, two, 
then three, then many robes were demanded. At last he said 
he had none left except what he himself desired. The Indians 
offered their ponies, until the trader had all the robes and all 
the ponies of the tribe. 

Now, he said, he would go back to the laud of the pale-face, 
and procure more of the black water. Some of the v/arriors 
were willing he .should do this ; others asserted that he had 
plenty of black water left, and was going to trade with their 
enemy the Sioux. The devil had awakened in the tribe. The 
trader's stores and packs were searched, but no black water 
was found. 'Twas hidden, then, said the Indians. The trader 
must produce it, oi" they would kill him. Of course he could 
not do this. He had sowed the wind ; he reaped the whirl- 
wind. He was scalped before the eyes of his horrified wife, and 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 79 

his body mutilated and mangled. The poor woman attempted 
to escape ; a warrior struck her with his tomahawk, and she 
fell as if dead. The Indians fired the lodge. As they did so, 
a Crow squaw saw that the white woman was not dead. She 
took the wounded creature to her own lodge, bound up her 
wounds and nursed her back to strength. But the unfor- 
tunate w^oman's brain was crazed, and could not bear the sight 
of a warrior. 

As soon as she could get around she ran away. The squaws 
went out to look for her, and found her crooning on the banks 
of the Big Beard. She would talk with the squaws, but if a 
warrior appeared she hid herself till he was gone. The 
squaws took her food, and she lived in a covert on the bank 
of the stream for many months. One day a warrior out hunt- 
ing chanced upon her. Thinking she was lost, he sought to 
catch her to take her back to the village, as all Indian tribes 
have a veneration for the insane; but she fled into the hills, 
and was never seen afterward. The stream became known as 
the "Place of the Crazy Woman," or Crazy Woman's Fork, 
and has retained the name to this day. 

At this point — to return to my narrative — the signs indi- 
cated that reinforcements had reached the original body of 
Indians. The plainsmen were now in the heart of the Indian 
country, the utmost caution was required, and a sharp look- 
out was maintained. When Clear Creek, another tributary 
of the Powder, was come up with, an Indian camp, some three 
miles distant, was discovered on the farther bank. 

A council of war was held. Never before had the white 
man followed the red so far into his domain, and 'twas plain 
the Indian was ou his guard; not a scout was posted. 

At Wild Bill's suggestion the attack waited upon nightfall. 
Veiled by darkness, the co.rpauy was to surprise the Indian 
camp and stampede the horses. 

The plan was carried out without a hitch. The Indians 
outnumbered the white men three to one, but when the latter 
lushed cyclonically through the camp, no effort vras made to 



80 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

repel them, and by the time the Indians had recovered from 
their surprise the plainsmen had driven off all the horses — 
those belonging to the reds as well as those that had been 
stolen. A few shots were fired, but the whites rode scathless 
away, and unpursued. 

The line of march was now taken up for Sweetwater Bridge, 
and here, four days later, the plainsmen brought up with their 
own horses and about a hundred Indian ponies. 

This successful sally repressed the hostilities for a space. 
The recovered horses were put back on the road, and the 
stage-drivers and express-riders resumed their interrupted 
activity. 

"Billy," said Mr. Slade, who had taken a great fancy to 
Will ; "Billy, this is a hard life, and you're too j^oung to stand 
it. You've done good service, and in consideration of it I'll 
make you a supernumerary. You'll have to ride only when 
it's absolutely necessary." 

There followed for Will a period of dolce far niente; days 
when he might lie on his back and watch the clouds drift 
across the sky; when he might have an eye to the beauty of 
the woodland and the sweep of the plain, without the nervous 
strain of studying every tree and knoll that might conceal a 
lurking redskin. Winter closed in, and with it came the mem- 
ories of the trapping season of '6o-'6i, when he had laid low 
his first and last bear. But there were other bears to be killed, 
the mountains were full of them, and one bracing morning he 
turned .his horse's head toward the hills that lay adown the 
Horseshoe Valley. Antelope and deer fed in the valley, the 
sage hen and the jack-rabbit started up under his horse's 
hoofs, but such .small game went by unnoticed. 

Two o'clock passed without a sign of bear save some tracks 
in the snow. The wintry air had put a keen edge on Will's 
appetite, and, hitching his tired horse, he shot one of the lately 
scorned sage hens and broiled it over a fire, that invited a longer 
stay than an industrious bear-hunter could alTord. But night- 
fall found him and his quarry still many miles asunder, and, as 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 8l 

he did not relish the prospect of a chaffing from the men at the 
station, he cast about for a camping place, finding one in an 
open spot on the bank of a little stream. Two more sage hens 
were added to the larder, and he was preparing to kindle a 
fire when the whinnying of a horse caught his ear. He ran to 
his own horse to check the certain response, resaddled him, 
and disposed everything for flight, should it be necessary. 
Then, taking his rifle, he put forth on a reconnaissance. 

He shortly came upon a bunch of horses, a dozen or more, 
around a crook of the stream. Above them, on the farther 
bank, shone a light. Drawing nearer, he saw that it came 
from a dugout, and he heard his own language spoken. Re- 
assured, he walked boldly up to the door and rapped. 

Silence — followed by a hurried whispering, and the demand : 

"Who's there?" 

" Friend and white man,' ' answered Will. 

The door opened reluctantly, and an ugly-looking customer 
bade him enter. The invitation was not responded to with 
alacrity, for eight such villainous-looking faces as the dugout 
held it would have been hard to match. Too late to retreat, 
there was nothing for it but a determined front, and let wit 
point the way of escape. Two of the men Will recognized as 
discharged teamsters from Lew Simpson's train, and from his 
knowledge of their long-standing weakness he assumed cor- 
rectly that he had thrust his head into a den of horse thie\'es. 

"Who's with you?" was the first query, and this answered, 
with sundry other information esteemed essential, "Where's 
your horse?" demanded the most striking portrait in the 
rogues' gallery. 

" Down by the creek," said Will. 

"All right, sonny; we'll go down and get him," was the 
obliging rejoinder. 

"Oh, don't trouble yourself," said Will. " I'll fetch him 
and put up here over night, with j^our permission. I'll leave 
my gun here till I get back. ' ' 

"That's right, leave your gun, you won't need it," said the 



82 LAST O? THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

leader of the gang, with a grin that was as near amiability as 
his rough, stern calling permitted him. "Jim and I will go 
down with you after the horse." 

This offer compelled an acquiescence, Will consoling himself 
with the reflection that it is easier to escape from two men 
than from eight. 

When the horse was reached, one of the outlaws obligingly 
volunteered to lead it. 

"All right," said Will, carelessly. " I shot a couple of sage 
hens here; I'll take them along. Lead away !" 

Ke followed with the birds, the second horse thief bringing 
up the rear. As the dugout was neared he let fall one of the 
hens, and asked the chap following to pick it up, ana as the 
obliging rear guard stopped, Will knocked him senseless Vv'ith 
the butt of his revolver. The man ahead heard the blow and 
turned, with his hand on his gun, but Will dropped him with 
a shot, -leaped on his horse, and dashed off. 

The sextet in the dugout sprang to arms and came running 
down the bank, and likely getting the particulars of the escape 
from the ruffian by the sage hen, who was probably only 
stunned for the moment, they buckled warmly to the chase. 
The mountain side was steep and rough, and men on foot were 
better than on horseback; accordingly Will dismounted, and 
clapping his pony soundly on the flank, sent him clattering on 
down the declivit)% and himself stepped aside behind a large 
pine. The pursuing party rushed past him, and when they 
were safely gone, he climbed back over the mountain and 
made his way as best he could to the Horseshoe. It was a 
twenty-five mile plod, and he reached the station early in the 
morning, weary and footsore. 

He woke the plainsmen, and related his adventure, and Mr. 
Slade at once organized a party to hunt out the bandits of the 
dugout. Twenty well-armed stock-tenders, stage-di ivers and 
ranchmen rode away at sunrise, and notwithstanding his fatigue 
Will accompanied tliem as guide. 

But the ill-favored birds had flown; the dugout was deserted. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 83 

Will soon tired of this nondescript service, and gladly ac- 
cepted a position as assistant wagon-master under Wild Bill, 
who had taken a contract to fetch a load of government freight 
from Rolla, Missouri. 

He returned with a wagon train to Springfield, in that state, 
and thence came home on a visit. It was a brief one, however, 
for the air was too full of war for him to endure inaction. 
^Contented only when at work, he continued to help on govern- 
ment freight contracts, until he received word that mother was 
dangerously ill. Then he resigned his position, and hastened 
home. 



CHAPTER XII. 



THB mother's last ILLNESS — HER CHARGE TO THE WRITER 

— LAST MESSAGE FOR WILL AND JULIA — HER DEATH- 

« 

T was now the autumn of 1863, 
and Will was a well-grown 
young man, tall, strong and 
athletic, though not yet quite 
eighteen years old. Our old- 
est sister, Julia, had been 
married, the spring preceding, 
to Mr. J. A. Goodman, but 
they remained in the old home 
because of mother's failing 
health. 

Seeing her from day to day, 
we had not remarked the 
changes in her gradual dis- 
solution, but Will was much shocked by the transformation 
that a few months had wrought. So frail and delicate had she 
been for years it seemed impossible her hold on life could 
weaker grow. Only an indomitable will-power had enabled 
her to overcome the infirmities of the body, and now it seemed 
to us as if her flesh had been refined away, leaving only the 
sweet and beautiful spirit. 

Will had reached home none too soon, for shortly after the 
doctor advised mother that only a few hours were left to her, 
and if she had any last messages, it were best that she com- 
municate them at once. And so that evening, when the time 
came round, it was a sad good night that was exchanged, the 
younger children being called in one by one to receive the 
parting blessing and injunction. 
84 




LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 85 

Mother's was an earnest Christian character, but at that 
time, of all the children I alone appeared religiously disposed, 
therefore her anxiety was keen. Young as I was, the solem- 
nity of the hour when she charged me with the spiritual welfare 
of the family has remained with me through all the years that 
have gone. Calling me to her side, she sought to impress 
upon my childish mind not the sorrow of death, but the glory 
of the Resurrection. 

" Death has no sting," she said, " that is not swallowed up 
in victory — the glorious victory purchased with a Saviour's 
blood. Do not weep for me, my child ; rejoice, rather, that I 
have gone where I shall no longer suffer. There I shall wait 
for my children; do not let me, Nellie, wait in vain. See to 
it that there shall be not one missing from the final gathering 
above. My greatest anxiety is for Willie. With a mother's 
keen insight I see a lurking enemy that would destroy my 
son. The one earthly foe I fear for him is the evil that is 
licensed by the law of our land, and countenanced and upheld 
by those with whom he will come in contact. In the wine cup 
and its debasing influences he may find a power stronger than 
his own will. 

' ' I^et your sisterly influence be used in every possible way 
to save him from this blighting curse. You can do little of 
yourself to guard against the alluring temptations which will 
beset him in every walk of life. But be faithful in your in- 
tercessions for him before the Throne of Grace. To Him, who 
is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask 
or think, we must look for strength to overcome this mighty 
force of the destroyer, that will assail our loved one. The veil 
was lifted when your sister Martha died — lifted long enough 
that she might pierce the mysteries of the Great Beyond. She 
left for us the assurance that Willie would be among the saved: 
thus I die in the glad belief that in God's own good time, the 
name of my well -beloved son will be written down by the Re- 
cording Angel in the Lamb's Book of Life. Never cease your 
efforts in behalf of your brothers and sisters. Remember al- 



86 LAST or THE great .scouts. 

ways that their spiritual well-being was your mother's last 
charge to 3^ou. I have loved them, I have prayed for them ; to 
you is bequeathed the work I have left unfinished. Be faith- 
ful to the trust. ' ' 

As if she were setting forth upon a pleasant journey, she 
bade me good-bye, and I kissed her for the last time on earth. 
When next I saw her face it was cold and quiet, the beautiful 
soul had forsaken its dwelling-place of claj', and had followed 
Martha's through the Invisible, to wait, a glorified spirit on 
the farther shore, for the coming of the loved ones whose life 
story v/as as yet unfinished. 

After mother's farewell charge to May we were all sent to 
bed, only Julia and Will remaining with the dying saint 
throughout the night. As is commonly the case with consump- 
tives, there came to her just before her death a brief season of 
long-lost animation, the last flicker of the torch before dark- 
ness. To these older children she talked almost continuously 
until the dawn. Into their hands v.'as given the task of edu- 
cating the others of the family, and on their hearts and con- 
sciences the charge was graven. Charlie, who was born dur- 
ing the early Kansas troubles, had ever been a delicate child, 
and he lay an especial burden on her mind. 

" If," she said, "it be possible for the dead to call the liv- 
ing, I shall call Charlie to me." ' 

Within the space of a 3'ear, Charlie, too, was gone, and v.-ho 
shall say that the yearning of a mother's heart for her child 
was not stronger than the influences of the material world ? 

Upon Will mother sought to impress the responsibilities of 
his destiny. She reminded him of the predictions of the for- 
tune-teller, that " his name would be known the world over." 

" But," said she, " only the names of them that are upright, 
brave, temperate, and true, can be honorably known. Re- 
member always that ' he that overcometh his own soul is 
greater than he who taketh a city.' Already you have shown 
great abilities, but remember that they carry with them grave 
responsibilities. You have been a good son to me always. In 



I,AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 87 

the hour of need you aided me to save the estate of the family ; 
therefore, I can leave you freed of anxiety over financial 
troubles, for with prudence there is enough property to render 
each child comfortable. Julia, I know, will exercise a mother's 
care over the little ones, and I have appointed her husband 
guardian of the estate. 

' ' I have not wished you to enlist in the war, partly because 
I knew you were too young, partly because my life was draw- 
ing near its close. But now you are nearly eighteen, and if, 
when I am gone, your country needs you in the strife of which 
we in Kansas know the bitterness, I bid you go as soldier in 
behalf of the cause for which your father gave his life." 

She talked until sleep followed exhaustion. When she 
awoke she tried to raise herself in bed. Will sprang to aid 
her, and with the upward look of one that sees ineffable things, 
she passed away, resting in his arms. 

Oh, the glory and the gladness 

Of a life without a fear ; 
Of a death, like nature fading 

In the autumn of the year ; 
Of a sweet and dreamless slumber, 

In a faith triumphant borne. 
Till the bells of Easter wake her, 

On the resurrection morn ! 

Ah, for such a blessed falling 

Into quiet sleep at last. 
When the ripening grain is garnered, 

And the toil and trial past ; 
When the red and gold of sunset 

Slowly changes into gray; 
Ah, for such a quiet passing. 

Through the night into the day ! 



CHAPTER XIII. 



A FRONTIER FUNERAL — OFF TO THE WAR — WILL A.S DISPATCH 
BEARER — AN AMBUSCADE THAT FAILED — DEATH OF ED 
NORCROSS — AN ECONOMICAL ADMINISTRATOR AND A LES- 
SON IN ECONOMY — WILL REPORTS FOR "SECRET SERVICE" 
— A PERILOUS MISSION. 

HE morning of the 2 2d of Nov- 
ember, 1863, began the saddest 
daj' of our lives. When father 
died most of the children were 

>^H ""w^ ^ too young to realize how great 

H9 ^ <i>t/' was their loss ; and then, we 

had mother left to comfort us. 
Now, bereft of both father and 
mother, the future looked 
blank and desolate. 

In frontier days, the splen- 
did trappings by which grief 
in these times seeks to ease its 
burden, were lacking. We 
had no other vehicle large enough to convey us all to the ceme- 
tery, so we rode in the lumber wagon. It was a long, cold, 
hard ride to Pilot Knob from our house, but we wished our 
parents to be united in death as they had been in life. Only 
those who have heard the clods fall upon their nearest and 
dearest can appreciate our desolation of heart that raw Novem- 
ber day. 

We know our parents were buried on the .summit of Pilot 
Knob hill. Further than that we know nothing. Whether 
because of the spite of enemies, the carelessness of those 
88 




LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 89 

in authority, or of war's inevitable havoc, their graves to- 
day are unknown, unhonored and unmarked. Every effort 
was made to locate them exactly ; high officials in Kansas de- 
sired to honor the first victim in the struggle for human liberty 
in that state, but all search has proven unavailing. 

The road leading from the cemetery forked a short distance 
outside of Leavenworth, one branch running to that city, the 
other winding homeward along Government Hill. When we 
reached the fork Will jumped out of the wagon. 

"I can't go home when I know mother is no longer there," 
said he. "I am going to Leavenworth to see Eugene Hatha- 
way. I shall stay with him to-night. ' ' 

We pitied Will — he and mother had been so much to each 
other — and raised no objection, as we should have done had we 
known the real purpose of his visit. 

The next morning, therefore, we were much surprised to 
see him and Eugene ride into the yard, both clothed in the 
blue uniforms of United Stales soldiers. Overwhelmed with 
grief over mother's death, it seemed more than we could bear 
to see our big brother ride off to war. In our imaginations, 
it was a foregone conclusion that the next act in the drama 
would be the bringing home of his lifeless, bullet-riddled body, 
and great was our lamentation. Among other things we threat- 
ened to inform the recruiting officers that he was not yet eigh- 
teen ; but he was too thoroughly in earnest to be moved by 
our objections. The regiment in which he had enlisted v.as 
already ordered to the front, and he had come home to say 
good-bye ; then he rode away to the hardships, dangers and 
privations of a soldier's life. The joy of action balanced the 
account for him, while we were obliged to accept the usual lot 
of girlhood and womanhood; the weary, anxious waiting, when 
the heart is torn with uncertainty and suspense over the fate 
of the loved ones who bear the brunt and burden of the day. 

The order sending Will's regiment to the front was counter- 
manded, and he remained for a time in Fort Leavenworth. 
His western experiences were well known there, and probably 



OO LAST OF fHE GREAT SCOUTS. 

for this reason, he was selected as a bearer of military dis- 
patches to Fort Larned. Some of our old Pro-Slavery enemies, 
who were upon the point of joining the Confederate army, 
learned of Will's mission, which they thought afforded them 
an excellent chance to gratify their ancient grudge against the 
father, by murdering the son. The killing could be justified 
on the plea of service rendered to their cause. Accordingly a 
plan was made to waylay Will and capture his dispatches at a 
creek he was obliged to ford. 

He received warning of this plot. On such a mission the 
utmost vigilance was demanded at all times, and with an am- 
buscade ahead of him, he was alertness itself. His knowledge 
of Indian warfare stood him in good stead now. Not a tree, 
rock, or hillock escaped his keen glance. When he nearedthe 
creek at which the attack was expected, he left the road and 
attempted to ford the stream four or five hundred yards above 
the common crossing, but found it so swollen by recent rains 
that he was unable to cross, so he cautiously picked his way 
back to the trail. 

The assassins* camp was two or three hundred feet away 
from the creek. Darkness was coming on, and he took advan- 
tage of the shelter afforded by the bank, screening himself be- 
hind every clump of bushes. His enemies would look for his 
approach from the other direcjk)n, and he hoped to give them 
the slip and pass by unseen. 

When he reached the point where he could see the little 
cabin where the men were probably hiding, he ran upon a 
thicket in which five saddle horses were concealed. 

"Five to one ! I don't stand much show if they see me," 
he decided as he rode quietly and slowly along, his carbine in 
his hand ready for use. 

" There he goes, boys ! he's at the ford ! " came a sudden 
shout from the camp, followed by the crack of a rifle. Two or 
three more shots rang out, and from the bound his horse gave 
Will knew one bullet had reached a mark. He rode into the 
v/ater, then turned in his saddle and aimed like a flash at a man 



LAST OF THK GRRAT SCOUTS. 91 

within range. The fellow staggered and fell, and Will put 
spurs to his horse, turning again only when the stream was 
crossed. The men were running toward the ford, firing as 
they came, and getting a warm return fire. As Will was al- 
ready two or three hundred yards in advance, pursuers on foot 
were not to be feared, and he knew that before they could 
reach and mount their horses he would be beyond danger. 
Much depended on his horse. Would the gallant beast, mor- 
tally hurt, as it afterwards proved, be able to long maintain 
the fierce pace he had set ? Mile upon mile was put behind be- 
fore the stricken creature fell. Will shouldered the saddle and 
bridle and continued on foot. He soon reached a ranch where 
a fresh mount might be procured, and was shortly at Fort 
lyarned. 

After a few hours' breathing spell, he left for Fort Leaven- 
worth with return dispatches. As he drew near the ford he 
resumed his sharp lookout, though scarcely expecting trouble. 
The planners of the ambuscade had been so certain that five 
men could easily make away with one boy that there had been 
no effort at disguise, and Will had recognized several of them. 
He, for his part, felt certain that they would get out of that 
part of the country with all dispatch ; but he employed none 
the less caution in crossing the creek, and his carbine was ready 
for business as he approached the camp. 

The fall of his horse's hoofs evoked a faint call from one of 
the buildings. It was not repeated, instead there issued hollow 
moans. 

It might be a trap ; again, a fellow creature might be at 
death's door. Will rode a bit nearer the cabin entrance. 

" Who's there? " he called. 

" Come in, for the love of God ! I am dying here alone ! " 
was the reply. 

"Who are you?" 

"Ed. Norcross." 

Will jumped from his horse. This was the man he had fired 
at. He entered the cabin. 



C)2 I.AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

' ' What is the matter ? " he asked. 

" I was wounded by a bullet," moaned Norcross, "and my 
comrades deserted me." 

Will was now within range of the poor fellow lying on the 
lloor. 

"Will Cody ! " he cried. 

Will dropped on his knee beside the dying man, choking 
with the emotion that the memory of long years of friendship 
had raised. 

"My poor Rd!" he murmured. "x\nd it was my bullet 
that struck j'ou. ' ' 

"It was in defense of your own life. Will," said Norcross. 
"God knows I don't blame you. Don't think too hard of me. 
I did everything I could to save you. It was I who sent you 
warning. I hoped you might find some other trail." 

"I didn't shoot with the others," continued Norcross after 
a short silence. "They deserted me. They said they would 
send help back, but they haven't." 

Will filled the empty canteen lying on the floor and re- 
arranged the blanket that served as a pillow; then he offered to 
dress tl^ neglected wound. But the grey of death was already 
upon the face of Norcross. 

" Never mind, Will," he whispered, "it's not worth while. 
Just stay with me till I die." 

It was not a long vigil. Will sat beside his old friend, 
moistening his pallid lips with water. In a very short time the 
end came. Will disposed the stiffening limbs, crossing the 
hands over the heart, and with a last backward look, went 
out of the cabin. 

It was his first experience in the bitterness and savagery of 
Vv'ar, and he set a grave and downcast face against the re- 
mainder of his journey. 

As he neared Leavenworth he met the friend that had con- 
veyed the dead man's warning mes.sage, and to him he com- 
mitted the task of bringing home the body. His heaviness of 
spirit was scarcely mitigated by the congratulations of t;-e 



tAST OF THK GRRAT SCOUTS. QJ 

commander of Fort L,eaveuworth upon his pluck and re- 
sources, which had saved both his life and the dispatches. 

There followed another period of inaction, always irritating 
to a lad of Will's restless temperament. Meantime, we at 
home were having our own experiences. 

We were rejoiced in great measure when sister Julia decided 
that we had learned as much as might be hoped for in the 
country school, and must thereafter attend the winter and 
spring terms of the school at Leavenworth. The dresses she 
cut for us, however, still followed the country fashion, which 
has regard rather to wear than to appearance, and we had not 
been a day in the city school before we discovered that our 
apparel had stamped "provincial"' upon us in plain, large 
characters. In addition to this, our brother-in-law, in his 
endeavor to administer the estate economically, bought each of 
us a pair of coarse calf-skin shoes. To this we were quite 
unused, mother having accustomed us to serviceable but pretty 
ones. The author of our "extreme" mortification, totally 
ignorant of the shy and sensitive nature of girls approaching 
womanhood, only laughed at our protests, and in justice to 
him it may be said that he really had no conception of the 
torture he inflicted upon us. 

We turned to Will. In every emergency he was our first 
thought, and here was an emergency that taxed his powers to 
an extent we did not dream of. He made answer to our letter 
that he was no longer an opulent trainman, but drew only the 
slender income of a soldier, and even that pittance was in 
arrears. Disappointment was swallowed up in remorse. Had 
we reflected how keenly he must feel his inability to help us, 
we would not have sent him the letter, which at worst con- 
tained only a sly suggestion of a fine opportunity to relieve 
sisterly distress. All his life he had responded to our every 
demand; now allegiance was due his country first. But, as 
was always the way with him, he made the best of a bad mat- 
ter, and we were much comforted by the receipt of the follow- 
ing letter: 



91 tAST OF THE GREAT" SCOUTS. 

"My Dear Sisters: 

' ' I am sorry that I cannot help you and furnish you with 
such clothes as you wish. At this writing I am so short 
of funds myself that if an entire Mississippi steamer could be 
bought for ten cents I couldn't purchase the smokestack. I 
will soon draw my pay, and I will send it, every cent, to you. 
So brave it out, girls, a little longer. In the meantime I will 
write to Al. 

Lovingly, Will." 

We were comforted, yes; but my last hope was gone, and I 
grew desperate. I had never worn the obnoxious shoes pur- 
chased by my guardian, and I proceeded to dispose of them 
forever. I struck what I regarded as a famous bargain with 
an accommodating Hebrew, and came into possession of a pair 
of shiny morocco shoes, worth perhaps a third of what mine 
had cost. One would say they were designed for shoes, and 
they certainly looked like shoes, but as certainly they were 
not wearable. Still they were of service, for the transaction 
convinced my guardian that the truest economy did not lie in 
the purchasing of calf-skin shoes for at least one of his charges. 
And a little later he received a letter from Will, presenting our 
grievances and advocating our cause. Will also sent us the 
whole of his next month's pay as soon as he drew it. 

In February, 1864, Sherman began his march through Mis- 
sissippi. The Seventh Kansas regiment, known as " Jenni- 
son's Jay hawkers," was reorganized at Fort Leavenworth as 
veterans, and sent to Memphis, Tenn., to join General A. J. 
Smith's command, which was to operate against General Forrest 
and cover the retreat of General Sturgis, who had been ,so 
badly whipped by Forrest at Cross- Roads. Will was exceed- 
ingly desirous of engaging in a great battle, and through 
some officers with whom he was acquainted preferred a peti- 
tion to be transferred to this regiment. The request was 
granted, and his delight knew no bounds. He wrote to us 
that his great desire was about to be gratified, that he should 
soon know what a real battle was like. 

He was well versed in Indian warfare, now he was ambi- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 95 

tious to learn, from experience, the superiority of civilized 
strife, — rather, I should say, of strife between civilized 
people. 

General Smith had acquainted himself with the record made 
by the young scout of the plains, and shortly after reaching 
Memphis he ordered Will to report to headquarters for special 
service. 

" I am anxious," said the general, "to gain reliable infor- 
mation concerning the enemy's movements and position. This 
can only be done by entering the Confederate camp, a line of 
action, as you are aware, fraught with great danger. You 
possess the needed qualities — nerve, coolness, resource — and I 
believe you could do it." 

" You mean," answered Will, quietly, "that you wish me 
to go as a spy into the rebel camp." 

" Exactly. But you must understand the risk you run. If 
you are captured you will be hanged." 

" I am ready to take the chances, sir," said Will ; " ready 
to go at once, if you wish." 

General Smith's stern face softened into a smile at the 
prompt response. 

"I am sure, Cody," said he, kindly, " that if any one can 
go through safely, you will. Dodging Indians on the plains 
was good training for the work in hand, which demands quick 
intelligence and ceaseless vigilance. I never require such 
service of any one, but since you volunteer to go, take these 
maps of the country to your quarters, and study them care- 
fully. Return this evening for full instructions." 

During the few days his regiment had been in camp, Will 
had been on one or two scouting expeditions, and was some- 
what familiar with the immediate environments of the Union 
forces. The maps were unusually accurate, showing every lake, 
river, creek and highway, and even the by-paths from planta- 
tion to plantation. 

Only the day before, while on a reconnaissance, Will had 
captured a Confederate soldier, who proved to be an old ac- 



96 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

quaiutance, named Nat Golden. Will had served with Nat on 
one of Russell, Majors &Waddeirs freight trains, and at one 
time had saved the 3'oung man's life, and thereby earned his 
enduring friendship. Nat was born in the East, became in- 
fected with Western fever, and ran away from home in order 
to become a plainsman. 

" Well, this is too bad," said Will, when he recognized his 
old friend. " I v/ould rather have captured a whole regiment 
than you. I don't like to take you in as a prisoner. What did 
you enlist on the wrong side for, anyway?" 

"The fortunes of war, Billj', m)^ boy," laughed Nat. 
"Friend shall be turned against friend, and brother against 
brother, j'ou know. You wouldn't have had me for a pris- 
oner, either, if my rifle hadn't snapped, but I'm glad it did, 
for I shouldn't want to be the one that shot you." 

" Well, I don't want to see 5'ou strung up," said Will, "so 
hand me over those papers you have, and I will turn you in as 
an ordinary prisoner." 

Nat's face paled as he asked : "Do you think I'm a sp}--, 
Billy?" 

"I know it." 

"Well," was the reply, "I've risked my life to obtain 
these papers, but I suppose they will be taken from me any- 
way, so I might as well give them up now and save my neck." 

Examination showed them to be accurate maps of the loca- 
tion and position of the Union army, and besides the maps, 
there were papers containing much valuable information con- 
cerning the number of soldiers and officers and their intended 
movements. Will had not destroyed these papers, and he now 
saw a way to use them to his own advantage. When he re- 
ported for final in.structions, therefore, at General Smith's 
tent, in the evening. Will said to him : 

' ' I gathered from a statement dropped by the prisoner cap- 
tured yesterday, that a Confederate spy has succeeded in mak- 
ing out and carrying to the enemy a complete map of the 
position of our regiment, together with some idea of the pro- 
jected plan of campaign." 



I,AST OF TIIK GRKAT SCOUTS. 97 

" Ah," said the general, " I am glad that you have put me 
on my guard. I will at once change my position so that the 
information will be of no value to them." 

Then followed full instructions as to the duty required of 
the volunteer. 

" When will you set out?" asked the general. 

"To-night, sir. I have procured my uniform, and have 
everything prepared for an early start." 

" Going to change your colors, eh?" 

"Yes, for the time being, but not my principles." 

The general looked at Will approvingly. "You will need all 
the wit, pluck, nerve, and caution of which you are possessed 
to come through this ordeal safely," said he. " I believe you 
can accomplish it, and I rely upon you fully. Good-bye, and 
success go with you ! ' ' 

After a warm hand-clasp Will returned to his tent, and lay 
down for a few hours' rest. By four o'clock he was in the 
saddle, riding toward the Confederate lines. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



THE ROLE OF A SPY — IN THE UON'S DEN — A RIDE FOR L,IFK — 
INDIAN TROUBI^E ON THE OI,D SANTE FE TRAII, — WII^L'S 
FIRST BIG BATTLE — WILD BILL AGAIN — BREAD CAST UPON 
THE WATERS — COLONEL HICKOK'S DARING DASH. 

N common walks of life to 
play the spy is an ignoble role ; 
in war it is one the noblest of 
men must sometimes play, 
however ungrateful the com- 
mission may be. 

On the battlefield, even the 
timid spirit is nerved to forti- 
tude — sometimes to reckless 
daring — b)'^ the elbow touch of 
comrades and the fierce exhil- 
aration of the combat when 
once the action is begun. For 
the hour he forgets that he is 
a man, with mother, wife, or sweetheart waiting for him at 
home. He is an animal — a noble animal — fighting with the 
ferocity of the tiger that has scented blood. What if he falls ? 
There is a comrade by to listen to the last message, to wet his 
parched lips with water, to tell him that the enemy flees, to 
inspire him — in a rough way, if he cannot voice the sentiment 
in more exalted phrases — with the sublime thought that 

' ' The fittest place where man can die 
Is where he dies for man. ' ' 

All that is asked of the soldier on the firing line is to present 
his face to the foe, stand firm, and obey orders. If he lives he 
98 




LAST OP THR GREAT SCOUTS. 99 

marches home under flying banners, to the stirring music of 
the " ear-piercing fife "; if he falls it is a soldier's death, and 
he has a soldier's burial. 

How different the lot of the spy ! He goes alone to meet 
danger half way, his cheek burning from the thought that for 
the nonce he \Aearsa uniform that he abhors, and that he must 
gain the good-will of his fellow-man only to betray him. He 
must have nerve, address, a nimble wit, and unlimited confi- 
dence in himself. A false word, a clianging expression of the 
eye, the slightest intimation that he is aught except what he 
pretends to be, the least weakening of the tension at which his 
nerves are set, aud a few yards of rope and a shallow trench 
await him. No elbow touch of comrades, no one to take the 
last message, no sublimer thought in the last moment than 
that he has done his duty. If his foe be compassionate, he 
maj' secure the privilege of being shot rather than hanged. In 
any case it is a short shrift before eternity. 

Yet the work has to be done, and there must be men to do 
it. There always are such men — nervy fellows who swing 
themselves into the saddle when their commander lifts his 
hand, and ride a mad race with Death at the horse's flank 
every mile of the way. These be the unknown heroes of every 
war. 

It was with a full realization of the dangers confronting him 
that my hero cantered away from the Union lines, his bor- 
rowed uniform under his arm. As soon as he had put the out- 
posts behind him, he dismounted and exchanged the blue 
clothes for the grey. Life on the plains had bronzed his face. 
For aught his complexion could tell, the ardent southern sun 
might have kissed it to its present hue. Then, if ever, his 
face was his fortune in good part ; but there was, too, a stout 
heart under his jacket, and the light of confidence in his clear 
brown eyes. 

The dawn had come up when he sighted the Confederate 
outposts. What lay beyond only time could reveal, but with 
a last reassuring touch of the papers in his pocket, he spurred 



lOO tAST OF THK GRKAT SCOUTS. 

his horse up to the first of the outlying sentinels. Promptly 
the customary challenge greeted him : 

"Hah! Who goes there ? " 

" Friend." 

" Dismount, friend ! Advance and give the countersign !" 

"Haven't the countersign," said Will, dropping from his 
horse, "but I have important information for General Forrest. 
Take me to him at once." 

' ' Are you a Confederate soldier ? ' ' 

" Not exactly. But I have some valuable news about the 
Yanks, I reckon. Better let me see the general." 

" Thus far," he added to himself, " I have played the part. 
The combination of ' Yank ' and ' I reckon ' ought to establish 
me as a promising candidate for Confederate honors." 

His story was not only plausible, but plainly and fairly told, 
but caution is a child of war, and the sentiuel knew his busi- 
ness. The pseudo Confederate was disarmed as a necessary 
preliminary, and marched between two guards to headquarters, 
many curious eyes (the camp being now astir) following the 
trio. 

When Forrest heard the report he ordered the prisoner 
brought before him. One glance at the general's handsome 
but harsh face, and the young man steeled his nerves for the 
encounter. There was no mercy in those cold, piercing eyes. 
This first duel of wits was the one to be most dreaded. Unless 
confidence were established his after work must be done at a 
disadvantage. 

The general's penetrating gaze searched the young face 
before him for several seconds. 

"Well, sir," said he, " what do j'^ou want with me? " 

Yankee-like, the reply was another question : 

" You sent a man named Nat Golden into the Union lines, 
did you not, sir? " 

' ' And if I did, what then ? ' ' 

' ' He is an old friend of mine. He tried for the Union camp 
to verify information that he had received, but before he 



tAST OF THK GREAT .SCOUTS. lOI 

Started he left certain papers with me in case he should be 
captured." 

' 'Ah ! ' ' said Forrest, coldly. ' ' And he was captured ? ' ' 

" Yes, sir, but, as I happen to know, he wasn't hanged, for 
these weren't on him." 

As he spoke, Will took from his pocket the papers he had 
obtained from Golden, and passed them over with the remark: 
' ' Golden asked me to take them to you. ' ' 

General Forrest was familiar with the hapless Golden' s 
handwriting, and the documents were manifestly genuine. 
His suspicion was not aroused. 

"These are important papers," said he, when he had run 
his eye over them. " They contain valuable information, but 
we may not be able to use it, as we are about to change our 
location. Do you know what these papers contain ? " 

" Every word," was the truthful reply. " I studied them 
so that in case they were destroyed you would still have the 
information from me. " 

" A wise thing to do," said Forrest, approvingly. "Are 
you a soldier ? ' ' 

" I have not as yet joined the army, but I am pretty well 
acquainted with this section, and perhaps could serve you as a 
scout." 

" Um ! " said the general, looking the now easy-minded 
young man over. " You wear our uniform." 

"It's Golden's," was the second truthful answer. "He 
left it with me when he put on the blue." 

" And what is your name ? " 

' ' Frederick Williams. ' ' 

Pretty near the truth. Only a final " s " and a rearrange- 
ment of his given names. 

"Very well," said the general, ending the audience, "you 
may remain in camp. If I need you I'll send for you." 

He summoned an orderly, and bade him make the volunteer 
scout comfortable at the couriers' camp. Will breathed a sigh 
of relief as he followed at the orderly's heels. The ordeal was 
successfully passed. The rest was action. 



I02 LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS, 

Two days went by. lu them Will picked up valuable infor- 
mation here and there, drew maps, and was prepared to de- 
part at the first favorable opportunity. It was about time, he 
figured, that General Forrest found some scouting work for 
him. That was a passport beyond the lines, and he promised 
himself the outposts should see the cleanest pair of heels that 
ever left unwelcome society in the rear. But, evidentl}', scout- 
ing was a drug in the general's market, for the close of an- 
other day found Will impatiently awaiting orders in the cour- 
iers' quarters. This sort of inactivity was harder on the 
nerves than more tangible perils, and he about made up his 
mind that when he left camp it would be without orders, but 
with a hatful of bullets singing after him. And he was quite 
sure that his exit lay that way when, strolling past headquar- 
ters, he clapped eyes on the very last person that he expected 
or wished to see — Nat Golden. 

And Nat w^as talking to an adjutant-general ! 

There were just two things to do, knock Golden on the head, 
or cut and run. Nat would not betray him knowingly, but un- 
wittingly was certain to do so the moment General Forrest 
questioned him. There could be no choice between the two 
courses open ; it was cut and run, and as a preliminary Will 
cut for his tent. First concealing his papers, he saddled his 
horse and rode toward the outposts with a serene countenance. 

The same sergeant that greeted him when he entered the 
lines chanced to be on duty, and of him W^ill asked an unim- 
portant question concerning the outer-flung lines. Yet as he 
rode along he could not forbear throwing an apprehensive 
glance behind. 

No pursuit was making, and the farthest picket line was 
passed by a good fifty yards. Ahead was a stretch of timber. 

Suddenly a dull tattoo of horses' hoofs caught his ear, and he 
turned to see a small cavalcade bearing down upon him at a 
gallop. He sank the spurs into his liorse's side and plunged 
into the timber. 

It was out of the frying pan into the fire. He ran plump 



LAST OF run GREAT SCOUTS. I03 

into a lialf dozen Confederate cavalrymen guarding two Union 
prisoners. 

"Men, a Union spy is escaping! " shouted Will. "Scatter 
at once, and head him off. I'll look after jour prisoners." 

There was a ring of authority in the command, it came at 
least from a petty officer, and, without thought of challenging 
it, the cavalrymen hurried right and left in search of the 
fugitive. 

"Come," said Will, in a hurried but smiling whisper to the 
dejected pair of Union men, " I'm the spy! There!" cuttiugthe 
ropes that bound their wrists. " Now ride for your lives! " 

Off dashed the trio, and not a minute too soon. Will's halt 
had been brief, but it had been of advantage to his pursuers, 
who, with Nat Golden at their head, came on in full cry, not 
a hundred yards behind. 

Here was a race with Death at the horse's flanks. The 
timber stopped a share of the singing bullets, but there were 
plenty that got by the trees, one of them finding lodgment in 
the arm of one of the fleeing Union soldiers. Capture meant 
certain death for Will; for his companions it meant Anderson- 
ville or Libby at the worst, which was, perhaps, as bad as 
death, but Will would not leave them, though his horse was 
fresh, and he could easily have distanced them. Of course, if 
it became necessary, he was prepared to cut their acquaint- 
ance, but for the present he made one of the triplicate target 
on which the galloping marksmen were endeavoring to score a 
bull's-eye. 

The edge of the wood was shortly reached, and beyond — 
inspiring sight! — lay the outposts of the Union army. The 
pickets, at sight of the fugitives, sounded the alarm, and a 
body of blue-coats responded. 

Will would have gladly tarried for the skirmish that en- 
sued, but he esteemed it his first duty to deliver the papers he 
had risked his life to obtain; so, leaving friend and foe to set- 
tle the dispute as best they might, he put for the clump of 
trees where he had hidden his uniform, and exchanged it for 



I04 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

the grey that had served its purpose and was no longer endur- 
able. Under his true colors he rode into camp. 

General Forrest almost immediately withdrew from that 
neighborhood, and after the atrocious massacre at Fort Pil- 
low, on the 1 2th of April, left the state. General Smith was 
recalled, and Will was transferred with the commission of 
guide and scout for the Ninth Kansas Regiment. 

The Indians were giving so much trouble along the 
line of the old Sante Fe trail that troops were needed to 
protect the stage-coaches, emigrants and caravans traveling 
that great highway. Like nearly all our Indian wars, this 
trouble was precipitated by the injustice of the white man's 
government of certain of the native tribes. In i86o. Colonel 
A. G. Boone, a worthy grandson of the immortal Daniel, made 
a treaty with the Comanches, Kiowas, Cheyennes and Arapa- 
hoes, and at their request he was made agent. During his 
wise, just and humane administration all of these savage 
nations were quiet, and held the kindliest feelings toward the 
whites. Any one could cross the plains without fear of 
molestation. In 1861 a charge of disloyalty was made against 
Colonel Boone by Judge Wright of Indiana, and he succeeded 
in having the right man removed from the right place. 
Russell, Majors & Waddell, recognizing his influence over the 
Indians, gave him fourteen hundred acres of land near Pueblo, 
Colorado. Colonel Boone moved there, and the place was 
named Booneville. Fifty chieftains from the tribes referred 
to visited Colonel Boone in the fall of 1862, and implored him 
to return to them. He told them that the President had sent 
him away. They offered to raise money, by selling their 
horses, to send him to Washington to tell the Great Father 
what their agent was doing; that he stole their goods and sold 
them back again, and they bade the colonel say that there 
would be trouble unless some one were put in the dishonest 
man's place. With the innate logic for which the Indian is 
noted, they declared that they had as much right to steal from 
passing caravans as the agent had to steal from them. 

No notice was taken of so trifling a matter as an injustice to 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. I05 

the Indian. The administration had its hands more than full 
in the attempt to right the wrongs of the negro. 

In the fall of 1863 a caravan passed along the trail. It was 
a small one, but the Indians had been quiet for so long a time 
that travelers were beginning to lose fear of them. A band 
of warriors rode up to the wagon train and asked for some- 
thing to eat. The teamsters thought they would be doing 
humanity a service if they killed a redskin, on the ancient 
principle that ' * the only good Indian is a dead one. ' ' Accord- 
ingly, a friendly, inoffensive Indian was shot. 

The bullet that reached his heart touched that of every 
warrior in these nations. Every man but one in the wagon 
train was slain, the animals driven off and the wagons burned. 

The fires of discontent that had been smouldering for two 
years in the red man's breast now burst forth with volcanic 
fury. Hundreds of atrocious murders followed, with whole- 
sale destruction of property. 

The Ninth Kansas Regiment, under the command of Colonel 
Clark, was detailed to protect the old trail between Fort Lyon 
and Fort Larned, and as guide and scout Will felt wholly at 
home. He knew the Indian and his ways, and had no fear of 
him. His fine horse and glittering trappings were an innocent 
delight to him, and who will not pardon in him the touch of 
pride — say vanity — that thrilled him as he led his regiment 
down the Arkansas River ? 

During the summer there were sundry skirmishes with the 
Indians. The same old vigilance learned in earlier days on the 
frontier was in constant demand, and there was many a rough 
and rapid ride to drive the hostiles from the trail. Whatever 
Colonel Clark's men may have had to complain of, there was 
no lack of excitement, no dull days in that summer. 

In the autumn the Seventh Kansas was again ordered to the 
front, and at the request of its ofl&cers Will was detailed for 
duty with his old regiment. General Smith's orders were that 
he should go to Nashville. Rosecrans was then in command of 
the Union forces in Missouri. His army was very small, num- 



Io6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

bering only about 6,500 men, wliile the Confederate General 
Price was on the point of entering the state with 20,000. This 
superiority of numbers was so great that General Smith re- 
ceived an order countermanding the other and remained in 
Missouri, joining forces \vith Rosecrans to oppose Price. Rose- 
crans's entire force still only numbered 11, coo, and he deemed 
it prudent to concentrate his army around St. Louis. General 
Ewing's forces and a portion of General Smith's command oc- 
cupied Pilot Knob. On Monday, the 24th of September, 1864, 
Price advanced against this position, but was repulsed with 
heavy losses. An adjacent fort in the neighborhood of Ironton 
was assaulted, but the Confederate forces again sustained a 
severe loss. This fort, however, was commanded by Shepard 
Mountain, which the Confederates occupied, and their well- 
directed fire obliged General Ewing to fall back to Harrison 
Station, where he made a stand, and some sharp fighting fol- 
lowed. General Ewing again fell back and succeeded in reach- 
ing General McNeill at Rolla, with the main body of his 
troops. 

This was Will's first serious battle, and it so chanced that he 
found himself opposed at one point by a body of Missouri 
troops, numbering many of the men that had been his father's 
enemies and persecutors nine years before. In the heat of the 
conflict he recognized more than one of them, and with the 
recognition came the memory of his boyhood's vow to avenge 
his father's death. Three of those men fell in that battle ; 
qnd whether or not it was he — his aim was careful — that laid 
them low, from that day on he accounted himself freed of his 
melancholy obhgation. 

After several hard-fought battles Price withdrew from Mis- 
souri with the remnant of his command — seven thousand where 
there had been twenty. 

During this campaign Will received honorable mention "for 
most conspicuous bravery and valuable service upon the field," 
and he was shortly brought into favorable notice in many quar- 
ters. The worth of the tried veterans was known, but none 



LAST OF Tim GREAT SCOUTS. 107 

of the older men were iu more demand than Will. His was 
seemingly a charmed life. Often was he detailed to bear dis- 
patches across the battlefield, and though horses were shot 
under him — riddled by bullets or torn by shells — himself went 
scathless. 

During this campaign, too, he ran across his old friend of 
the plains, Wild Bill. Stopping at a farm house one day to 
obtain a meal, he was not a little surprised to hear the salu- 
tation : 

" Well, Billy, my boy, how are you ? " 

He looked around to see a hand outstretched from a coat- 
sleeve of Confederate grey, and as he knew Wild Bill to be a 
staunch Unionist, he surmised that he was engaged upon an 
enterprise similar to his own. There was an exchange of 
chaffing about grey uniforms and blue, but more serious talk 
followed. 

" Take these papers, Billy," said Wild Bill, passing over a 
package. "Take 'em to General McNeill, and tell him I'm 
picking up too much good news to keep away from the Con- 
federate camp. ' ' 

" Don't take too many chances," cautioned Will, well know- 
ing that the only chances the other would not take would be 
the sort that were not visible. 

Colonel Hickok, to give him his real name, replied with a 
laugh : 

" Practise what you preach, my son. Your neck is of more 
value than mine. You have a future, but mine is mostly past. 
I'm getting old." 

At this point the good woman of the house punctuated the 
colloquy with a savory meal, which the pair discussed with 
good appetite and easy conscience, in spite of their host's re- 
fusal to take pay from Confederate soldiers. 

" As long as I have a crust in the house," said she, " you 
boys are welcome to it." 

But the pretended Confederates paid her for her kindness in 
better currency than she was used to. They withheld infor- 



I08 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

matiou concerning a proposed visit of her husband and son, of 
which, during one spell of loquacity, she acquainted them. 
The bread she cast upon the waters returned to her speedily. 

The two friends parted company, Will returning to the 
Union lines and Colonel Hickok to the lion's den in the op- 
posing camp. 

A few days later, when the Confederate forces were closing 
up around the Union lines and a battle was at hand, two 
horsemen were seen to dart out of the hostile camp and ride 
at full speed for the Northern lines. For a space the audacity 
of the escape seemed to paralyze the Confederates ; but 
presently the bullets followed thick and fast, and one of the 
saddles was empty before the rescue party — of which Will was 
one — got fairly under way. As the survivor drew near, Will 
shouted : 

" It's Wild Bill, the Union scout." 

A cheer greeted the intrepid Colonel Hickok, and he rode 
into camp surrounded by a party of admirers. The infor- 
mation he brought proved of great value in the battle of Pilot 
Knob (already referred to), which almost immediately 
followed. 



CHAPTER XV. 

A ST. LOUIS DETAIL — THE FAIR EQUESTRIENNE — A RESCUE 
AND A BETROTHAL — THE OVERLAND STAGE ROUTE — 
WILL AS A DRIVER — ANOTHER RACE FOR LIFE — TURN 
ABOUT AT ' ' HOLDING UP " IS FAIR PLAY. 




OT long after the battle of Pilot 
Knob Will was assigned to spe- 
cial service at military head- 
quarters in St. L,ouis. From 
girlhood to the time of her 
death mother had maintained a 
correspondence with one of her 
schoolmates, who became the 
wife of General Polk, and when 
the general's wife learned that 
a son of her old friend was in 
the Union army, she used her 
influence to obtain an excellent position for him. Will was 
not wholly pleased. His new duties lacked excitement and 
the spice of danger that long had flavored his existence. Yet 
his St. Louis detail proved an important turning point in his 
life, for he made the acquaintance of the lady who afterward 
became his wife. 

More than once, while out for a morning canter, he had re- 
marked a young woman of attractive face and figure, who sat 
her horse with the grace of Diana Vernon. Now few things 
caugh his eye more quickly than fine- horsemanship, whether 
in man or woman, and his desire to establish an acquaintance 
with this particular equestrienne was the stronger for the diflS- 
culties that beset the path to such a favor, as none of his friends 

109 



tlO LAST OF THR GREAT SCOUTS. 

knew her and the most formal introduction seemed hopelessly 
remote. The only chance appeared to lie in a rescue. Such 
things happen frequently in novels, indeed, it is a common way 
of bringing the hero and heroine together, but this young lady 
never seemed in need of rescue, or even of a warning against a 
possible mishap. Her horse always behaved properly, and her 
firm handling of him was extremely discouraging to a young 
man tagging close behind, waiting for a runaway which, if it 
were coming, was certainly taking its time about it. 

Yet it did come. Fortune was kind. Fate one morning 
broke a bridle, and even a lady centaur would be at a disadvan- 
tage under such circumstances. 

All the elements for a first-class rescue were present : horse 
rushing madly down the street, lady clinging helplessly to his 
back, precipice presumably a mile or two down the road, no 
one but the hero around. The race was on. 

From long association with it on the plains. Will had become 
inseparable from his lariat, and it was the work of but half a 
minute to coil it, send it whizzing through the air and drop it 
neatly around the neck of the runaway horse, then, riding 
alongside, he gradually tightened the noose until the half- 
choked animal fave up the struggle. 

The other ingredients for the romance were promptly sup- 
plied : lady unnerved by the strain, 5'oung man, hat in hand, 
proffering escort, purely to oblige the lady, though he him- 
self should be about som.e pressing business, smiles, thanks, 
and — an introduction to the family. 

From war to love — or from love to war — is but a step, and 
Will lost no time in taking it. He was somewhat better than 
an apprentice to Dan Cupid, If the reader remembers, he 
went to school with Steve Gobel. True, his opportunities to 
enjoy feminine society had not been many, which, perhaps, 
accounts for the promptness with which they (the opportuni- 
ties) were embraced when they did arise. 

This was thirty-three years ago, and newspaper reporting 
was not the exact science that it is to-day, but the runaway 



LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. Ill 

found its way into the next day's paper. The reporter was 
not slow in learning that the young man with the lariat had 
had many other adventures, but he got little satisfaction from 
Will, who, not addicted to the amiable weakness of " blowing 
his own horn," rather fancie'd he had headed off the news- 
paper man. But he reckoned without Wild Bill. Colonel 
Hickok was very willing to be interviewed, and he drew on 
his memory for enough material to stuff the reporter's note- 
book. So Will, not a little surprised, read all about himself 
in the morning journal, and subsequently found himself some- 
thing of a lion in the gay life of St. Louis city. 

This prestige, needless to say, did not injure his chances of 
winning Miss Louise Frederici, the heroine of the runaway, 
and he became her accepted suitor before the war closed and 
he received his honorable discharge. 

The spring of '65 found him not yet twenty, and he was 
sensible of the fact that before he could dance at his own wed- 
ding he must place his worldly affairs upon a surer financial 
basis than falls to the lot of a soldier, so, much as he would 
have enjoyed remaining in St. Louis, fortune pointed to wider 
fields, and he set forth in search of remunerative and con- 
genial employment. 

First, there was the visit home, where the warmest of wel- 
comes waited him. During his absence the second sister, 
Eliza, had married a Mr. Myers, but the rest of us were at the 
old place, and the eagerness with which we awaited Will's 
home-coming was stimulated by the hope that he would remain 
and take charge of the estate. Before we broached this sub- 
ject, however, we had to inform him that we had read the 
glowing story of his career in the St. Louis paper, and, as May 
remarked, considered it a trifle overdrawn. For his part, 
there was the story of the engagement to Miss Frederici to 
tell, and, far from awaking jealousy, it aroused our delight, 
Julia voicing the sentiment of the family in the comment : 

"When you're married. Will, you will have to stay at 
home. ' ' 



TI3 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

This led to the matter of his remaining with us to manage 
the estate — and to the upsetting of our plans. The pa)' of a 
soldier in the war was next to nothing, and as Will had been 
unable to put any money by, he took the first chance that 
offered to better his fortunes. 

This happened to be a job of driving horses from Leaven- 
worth to Fort Kearne)'-, and almost the first man he met after 
reaching the fort was an old plains friend, Bill Trotter. 

" You're just the chap I've been looking for," said Trotter, 
when he learned that Will desired regular work. "I'm divi- 
sion station agent here, but stage-driving is dangerous v/ork, 
as the route is infested with Indians and outlaws. Several 
drivers have been held up and killed lately, so it's not a very 
enticing job, but the paj-'s good, and you know the country. 
If any one can take the stage through, 5'^ou can. Question is, 
do you want the job? " 

When a man is in love and the wedding daj' has been 
dreamed of, if not set, life takes on an added sweetness, and 
to stake it against the marksmanship of Indian or outlaw is 
not, perhaps, the best use to which it may be put. Will had 
come safely through so many perils that it seemed folly to 
thru.st his head into another batch of them, and thinking of 
Louise and the coming wedding day, his first thought was No. 

But it was the old story, and there was Trotter at his elbow, 
expressing confidence in his ability as a frontiersman — an 
opinion Will fully shared, for a man knows what he can do. 
The pay was good, and the sooner earned the sooner would 
the wedding be, and Trotter received the answer he expected. 

The stage line was another of the Western enterprises pro- 
jected by Russell, Majors & Waddell. When gold was dis- 
covered on Pike's Peak there was no method of traversing the 
great Western plain except by plodding ox team, mule pack 
or stage-coach. A .semi-monthly stage line ran from St. Jos- 
eph to vSalt Lake City, but it was poorly equipped and very 
tedious, oftentimes twenty-one days being required to make 
the trip. The senior member of the firm, in partnership with 



LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS. I13 

Johu S. Jones of Missouri, established a new line between the 
Missouri River and Denver, at that time a straggling mining 
hamlet. One thousand Kentucky mules were bought, with a 
suflBcient number of coaches to ensure a daily run each wa^^ 
The trip was made in six days, which necessitated travel at 
the rate of a hundred miles a day. 

The first stage reached Denver on May 17, 1859. It was 
accounted a remarkable achievement, and the line was pro- 
nounced a great success. In one way it was, but the expense 
of equipping it had been enormous, and the new line could 
not meet its obligations. To save the credit of their senior 
partner, Russell, Majors & Waddell were obliged to come to 
the rescue. They bought up all the outstanding obligations 
and also the rival stage line between St. Joseph and Salt Lake 
City. They consolidated the two, and thereby hoped to put 
the Overland stage route on a paying basis. St. Joseph now 
became the starting point of the united lines. From there the 
road went to Fort Kearney, and followed the old Salt Lake 
Trail, already described in these pages. After leaving Salt Lake 
it passed through Camp Floyd, Ruby Valley, Carsou City, 
Placerville and Folsom, and ended in Sacramento. 

The distance from St. Joseph to Sacramento by this old 
stage route was nearly nineteen hundred miles. The time 
required by mail contracts and the government schedule was 
nineteen days. The trip was frequently made in fifteen, but 
there were so many causes for detention that the limit was 
more often reached. 

Each two hundred and fifty miles of road was designated a 
"division," and was in charge of an agent, who had great 
authorit}^ in his own jurisdiction. He was commonly a man 
"of more than ordinary intelligence, and all matters pertaining 
to his division were entirely under his control. He hired and 
discharged employees, purchased horses, mules, harness and 
food, and attended to their distribution at the different sta- 
tions. He superintended the erection of all buildings, had 
charge of the water supply, and he was the paymaster. 



114 LAST OF THE GREAT vSCOUTS. 

There was also a mau known as the conductor, whose route 
was almost coincident with that of the agent. He sat with the 
driver, and often rode the whole two hundred and fifty miles of 
his division without any rest or sleep, except what he could 
catch sitting on the top of the flying coach. 

The coach itself was a roomy, swaying vehicle, swung on 
thorough-braces instead of springs. It always had a six-horse 
or six-mule team to draw it, and the speed was nerve-break- 
ing. Passengers were allowed twenty-five pounds of baggage, 
and that, with the mail, express and the passengers them- 
selves, was in charge of the conductor. 

TheOxerland stage-coaches were operated at a loss until 
1862. In March of that year Russell, Majors & Waddell 
transferred the whole outfit to Ben Holliday. Here was a 
tjpical frontiersman, of great individuality and character. At 
the time he took charge of the route the United States mail was 
given to it ; this put the line on a sound financial basis, as the 
government spent $800,000 yearly in transporting the mail to 
San Francisco. 

Will reported for duty the morning after his talk with Trot- 
ter, and when he mounted the stage-box and gathered the 
reins over the six spirited horses, the passengers were assured 
of an expert driver. 

His run was from Fort Kearney to Plum Creek. The country 
was sharply familiar. It was the scene of his first encounter 
with Indians. A long and lonely ride it was, and a dismal one 
when the weather turned cold, but it meant a hundred and fifty 
dollars a month, and each pay day brought him nearer to St. 
Louis. 

Indian signs there had been right along, but they were only 
signs, until one bleak day in November. He pulled out of 
Plum Creek with a sharp warning ringing in his ears. Indians 
were on the war-path, and trouble was more likely than not 
ahead. Lieutenant Flowers, assistant division agent, was on 
the box with him, and within the coach were six well-armed 
passengers. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. II5 

Half of the run had been covered when Will's experienced 
eye detected the promised red men. Before him lay a stream 
which must be forded. The creek was densely fringed with 
underbrush, and along this the Indians were skulking, ex- 
pecting to cut the stage off at the only possible crossing. 

Perhaps this is a good place to say a word concerning the 
seemingly extraordinary fortune that has stood by Will in his 
adventures. Not only have his own many escapes been of the 
hairbreadth sort, but he has arrived on the scene of danger at 
just the right moment to rescue others from extinction. Of 
course an element of luck has entered into these affairs, but for 
the most part they simply proved the old saying that an ounce 
of prevention is better than a pound of cure. Will had studied 
the plains as an astronomer studies the heavens. The slightest 
disarrangement of the natural order of things caught his eye. 
With the astronomer, it is a comet or an asteroid appearing 
upon a field whose every object has long since been placed and 
studied; with Will, it was a feathered head-dress where there 
should have been but tree, or rock, or grass ; a moving figure 
where nature should have been inanimate. 

When seen, those things were calculated as the astronomer 
calculates the motion of the objects that he studies. A planet 
will arrive at a given place at a certain time ; an Indian will 
reach a ford in a stream in about so many minutes. If there 
be time to cross before him, it is a matter of hard driving ; if 
the odds are with the Indian, that is another matter. 

A less experienced ob.server than Will would not have seen 
the skulking redskins ; a less skilled frontiersman would not 
have apprehended their design ; a less expert driver would not 
have taken the running chance for life ; a less accurate marks- 
man would not have picked off an Indian with a rifle while 
shooting from the top of a swinging, jerking stage-coach. 

Will did not hesitate. A warning shout to the passengers, 
and the whip was laid on, and off went the horses, full speed. 
Seeing that they had been discovered, the Indians came out 
into the open, and ran their ponies for the ford, but the stage 



Il6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

was there full five hundred yards before them. It was char- 
acteristic of their driver that the horses were suffered to pause 
at the creek long enough to get a swallow of water, then, re- 
freshed, they were off at full speed again. 

The coach, creaking in every joint, rocked like a captive 
balloon, the unhappy passengers were hurled from one side of 
the vehicle to the other, flung into one another's laps and oc- 
casionally, when some uncommon obstacle sought to check the 
flying coach, their heads collided with its roof. The Indians 
menaced them without, cracked skulls seemed their fate 
within. 

Will plied the whip relentlessly, and so nobly did the pow- 
erful horses respond that the Indians gained but slowly on 
them. There were some fifty redskins in the band, but Will 
assumed that if he could reach the relay station the two stock- 
tenders there, with himself. Lieutenant Flowers and the pas- 
sengers, would be more than a match for the marauders. 

When the pursuers drew within fair rifle range Will handed 
the reins to the lieutenant, swung round in his seat and fired 
at the chief. 

" There," shouted one of the passengers, "that fellow with 
the feathers is shot!" and another fusillade from the coach in- 
terior drove holes in the air. 

The relay station was now hard by, and attracted by the 
firing the stock-tenders came forth to take a hand in the en- 
gagement. Disheartened by the fall of their chief, the Indians 
weakened at the sign of reinforcements and gave up the pursuit. 

Lieutenant Flowers and two of the passengers were wounded, 
but Will could not repress a smile at the excited assurance of 
one of his fares that they (the passengers) had "killed one 
Indian and driven the rest back." The stock-tenders smiled, 
also, but said nothing. It would have been too bad to spoil 
such a good story. 

The gravest fears for the safety of the coach had been ex- 
pressed when it was known that the reds were on the war-path ; 
it was not thought possible that it could get through unharmed. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. II7 

and troops were sent out to scour the country. These, while 
too late to render service in the adventure just related, did good 
work during the remainder of the winter. The Indians were 
thoroughly subdued, and Will saw no more of them. 

There was no other adventure of special note until February. 
Just before Will started on his run Trotter took him to one 
side and advised him that a small fortune was going by the 
coach that day, and extra vigilance was urged, as the existence 
of the treasure might have become known. 

" I'll do the best I can," said Will, and he had scarcely 
driven away when he suspected the two ill-favored passengers 
he carried. The sudden calling away of the conductor, where- 
by he was left alone, was a suspicious circumstance. He prop- 
erly decided that it would be wiser for him to hold up his pas- 
sengers than to let them hold up him, and he proceeded to take 
time by the forelock. He stopped the coach, jumped down, 
and examined the harness as if something was wrong ; then 
he stepped to the coach door and asked his passengers to hand 
him a rope that was inside. As they complied they looked into 
the barrels of two cocked revolvers. 

" Hands up !" said Will. 

" What's the matter with you ? " demanded one of the pair, 
as their arms were raised. 

" Thought I'd come in first — that's all," was the answer. 

The other was not without appreciation of humor. 

"You're a cute one, youngster," said he, ' ' but you'll find 
more'n j'our match down the road, or I miss my guess." 

"I'll look after that when I get to it," said Will. "Will 
you oblige me by tying your friend's hands? Thank 3-ou. 
Now throw out 3'our guns. That all ? All right. Let me 
see your hands. ' ' 

When both outlaws had been securely trussed up and proven 
to be disarmed, the journey was resumed. The remark dropped 
by one of the pair was evidence that they were part of the 
gang. He must reach the relay station before the attack. If 
he could do that he had a plan for farther on. 



Il8 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

The relay station was uot far away, and was safely reached. 
The prisoners were turned over to the stock-tenders, and then 
Will disposed of the treasure against future molestation. He 
cut open one of the cushions of the coach, taking out part of 
the filling, and in the cavity thus made stored everything of 
value, including his own watch and pocketbook; then the fill- 
ing was replaced and the hole smoothed to a natural appear- 
ance. 

If there were more in the gang, he looked for them at the 
ford where the Indians had sought to cut him oflF, and he was 
not disappointed. As he drew near the growth of willow that 
bordered the road half a dozen men with menacing rifles 
stepped out. 

" Halt, or you're a dead man! " was the conventional salu- 
tation, in this case graciously received. 

" Well, what do jou want ? ' ' asked Will. 

' ' The boodle you carry. Fork it over! ' ' 

" Gentlemen," said Will, smiling, "this is a case where it 
takes a thief to catch a thief. ' ' 

" What's that ? " cried one of the outlaws, his feelings out- 
raged by the frank description. 

" Not that I'm the thief," continued Will, "but your pals 
were one too many for you this time." 

" Did they rob you ? " howled the gang in chorus, shocked 
by such depravity on the part of their comrades. 

" If there's anything left in the coach worth having don't 
hesitate lo take it," offered Will pleasantly. 

"Where's your strong-box?" demanded the outlaws, loth 
to believe there was no honor among thieves. 

Will drew it forth and exposed its melancholy emptiness. 
The profanity that ensued was positively shocking. 

' ' Where did they hold you up ? " demanded the leader of 
the gang. 

" Eight or nine miles back. You'll find some straw in the 
road. You can have that, too." 

" Were there horses to meet them ? " 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 



119 



"On foot the last I saw them." 

"Then we can catch 'em, boys," shouted the leader, hope 
upspringing iu his breast. " Come, let's be off ! " 

They started for the willows on the jump, and presently 
returned spurring their horses. 

"Give them my regards!" shouted Will. But only the 
thud ! thud ! of horsehoofs answered him. Retribution was 
sweeping like a hawk upon its prey. 

Will pushed along to the end of his run and handed over his 
trust undisturbed. Fearing that his ruse might have been 
discovered, he put the "extra vigilance" urged by Trotter 
into the return trip, but the trail was deserted. He picked up 
the prisoners at the relay station and carried them to Fort 
Kearney. If their companions were to discover the sorry trick 
played upon them they would have demanded his life as a 
sacrifice. 

At the end of this exciting trip he found a letter from Miss 
Fredetici waiting him. She urged him to give up the wild life 
he was leading, return east, and find another calling. This 
was precisely what Will himself had in mind, and persuasion 
was not needed. In his reply he asked that the wedding day 
be set, and then he handed Trotter his resignation from the 
lofty perch of a stage-driver. 

" I don't like to let 3'ou go," objected Trotter. 

" But," said Will, " I took the job only in order to save 
enough money to get married on." 

" In that case," said Trotter, " I have nothing to do but 
wish you joy," 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE WEDDING — WILI. TURNS I,ANDI,ORD — FIRST EFFORT AS AN 
INDIVIDUAL FREIGHTER, AND ITS DISASTROUS ENDING — 
SCOUTING AT FORT FLETCHER — THE MEETING WITH 
GENERAL CUSTER — THE MOUSE-COLORED MULE— A VOICE 
IN THE NIGHT — " THE COLORED TROOPS FIGHT NOBLY " 
— THE CITY OF ROME. 



HEN Will reached home he 
found another letter from Miss 
Frederici, who, agreeably to 
his request, had fixed the wed- 
ding day, March 6, 1866. 
This date was not far distant, 
although of course each hour 
between seemed an eternity. 

The wedding ceremony was 
quietly performed at the home 
of the bride, and the large 
number of friends that wit- 
nessed it united in declaring 
that a handsomer couple sel- 
dom bows for Hymen's benediction. 

The bridal journey was a trip to I,eavenworth on a Missouri 
steamer. At that time there was much travel by these boats, 
and their equipment was first-class. They were sumptuously 
fitted out, the table was excellent, and except when sectional 
animosities disturbed the serenity of their decks, a trip on one 
of them was a very pleasant excursion. 

The young benedict soon discovered, however, that in war 
times the ' ' trail of the serpent ' ' is liable to be over all things; 
1 20 ^ ^ ^. 




LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 121 

even a wedding journey is not exempt from the baneful in- 
fluence of sectional animosity. A party of excursionists on 
board the steamer manifested so extreme an interest in the 
bridal couple that lyouise retired to a stateroom to escape their 
rudeness. After her withdrawal Will entered into conversa- 
tion with a gentleman from Indiana who had been very polite 
to him, and asked him if he knew the reason for the insolence 
of the excursion party. The gentleman hesitated a moment 
and then answered : " To tell the truth, Mr. Cody, these men 
are Missourians and say they recognize you as one of Jennison's 
Jayhawkers ; that you were an enemy of the South and are, 
therefore, an enemy of theirs." 

Will answered steadily : " I was a soldier during the war 
and a scout in the Union army, but I had some experience of 
Southern chivalry before that time," and he related to the 
Indianian some of the incidents of the early Kansas border war- 
fare, in which he and his father had played so prominent a 
part. 

The next day the insolent behavior was continued. Will 
was much inclined to resent it, but his wife pleaded so earnestly 
with him to take no notice of it that he ignored it. 

In the afternoon when the boat landed at a lonely spot to 
wood up, the Missourians seemed greatly excited, and all 
gathered on the guards and anxiously scanned the river bank. 

The roustabouts were just about to make the boat fast when 
a party of armed horsemen dashed out of the woods and gal- 
loped toward the landing. The captain thought the boat was 
to be attacked and hastily gave orders to back out, calling the 
crew on board at the same time. These orders the negroes lost 
no time in obeying, as they often suffered severely at the hands of 
these reckless marauders. The leader of the horsemen rode 
rapidly up, firing at random. As he neared the steamer he called 
out : " Where is that Kansas Jay hawker? We have come for 
him." The other men caught sight of Will and one of them 
cried: "We know you, Bill Cody." But they were too late. Al- 
ready the steamer was backing away from the shore, dragging 



122 LAST OF THEi GREAT SCOUTS. 

her gang-plank through the water ; the negro roustabouts were 
too much terrified to pull it in. When the attacking party 
saw their plans were frustrated and that they were balked of 
their prey, they gave vent to their disappointment in 5^ells of rage, 
A random volley was fired at the retreating steamer, but it soon 
got out of range and continued on its way up the river. 

Will had prepared himself for the worst ; he stood, revolver 
in hand, at the head of the steps, ready to dispute the way with 
his foes. 

There was also a party of old soldiers on board, six or eight 
in number ; they were dressed in civilian's garb and Will knew 
nothing of them, but when they heard of their comrade's pre- 
dicament they ha.stily prepared to back up the young scout. 
Happily the danger was averted, and their services were not 
called into requisition. The remainder of the trip was made 
without unpleasant incident. 

It was afterwards learned that as soon as the Missourians 
became aware of the presence of the Union scout on board, they 
telegraphed ahead to the James and Younger brothers that Will 
was aboard the boat, and asked to have a part}' meet it at this se- 
cluded landing, and capture and carry off the young soldier. Will 
feared that Louise might be somewhat disheartened by such 
an occurrence on the bridal trip, but the welcome accorded the 
young couple on their arrival at Leavenworth was flattering 
enough to make amends for all unpleasant incidents. The 
young wife found that her husband numbered his friends by 
the score in his own home, and in the grand reception tendered 
them he was the lion of the hour. 

Entreated by Loui.se to abandon the plains and pursue a 
vocation along more peaceful paths. Will conceived the idea 
of taking up the business in which mother had won financial 
success — that of landlord. The house she had built was pur- 
chased after her death by Dr. Crook, a surgeon in the Seventh 
Kansas Regiment. It was now for rent, which fact no doubt 
decided Will in his choice of an occupation. It was good to 
live again under the roof that had sheltered his mother in her 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. I23 

last days ; it was good to see the young wife amid the old 
scenes. So Will turned boniface and invited May and me to 
make our home with him. 

There was a baby in Julia's home, and the dimpled darling 
had so wound himself around May's heartstrings that she 
could not be enticed away, but there was never an5^body that 
could supplant Will in my heart, and I gladly accepted his 
invitation. 

Thoreau has somewhere drawn a sympathetic portrait of the 
I^andlord, who is supposed to radiate hospitality as the sun 
throws off heat — as its own reward, and who feeds and lodges 
men purely from a love of the creatures. Yet even such a 
landlord, if he is to continue long in business, must have an 
eye to profit, and make up in one corner what he parts with in 
another. Now, Will radiated hospitality, and his reputation 
as a lover of his fellow-man got so widely abroad that travelers 
without money and without price would go miles out of their 
way to put up at his tavern. Socially he was an irreproachable 
landlord, financially his shortcomings were deplorable. 

And then the life of an inn-keeper, while not without its 
joys and opportunities to love one's fellow-man, is somewhat 
prosaic, and our guests oftentimes remarked an absent, far- 
away expression in the eyes of landlord Cody. He was think- 
ing of the plains. lyouise also remarked that expression, and 
the sympathy she felt for his yearnings was accentuated by an 
examination of the books of the hostelry at the close of the 
first six months' business. Half smiling, half tearful, she 
consented to his return to his Western life. 

Will disposed of the house and settled his affairs, and when 
all the bills were paid and Sister lyou and I cosily ensconced in 
a little home at Leavenworth, we found that Will's generous 
thought for our comfort through the winter had left him on 
the beach financially. He had planned a freighting trip on his 
ovva account, but the acquiring of a team, wagon and the rest 
of the outfit presented a knotty problem when he counted over 
t!io few dollars left on hand. 



124 l^-^^ST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 

For the first time I saw disappointment and discouragement 
written on his face, and I was sorely distressed, for he had 
never denied me a desire that he could gratify, and it was 
partly on my account that he was not in better financial condi- 
tion. I was not yet sixteen, it would be two years and more 
before I could have a say as to the disposition of my own 
money, yet something must be done at once. 

I decided to lay the matter before Lawyer Douglass. Surely 
he could suggest some plan whereby I might assist my brother. 
I had a half-matured plan of my own, but I was assured that 
Will would not listen to it. 

Mr. Douglass had been the legal adviser of the family since 
he won our first lawsuit years before. We considered the prob- 
lem from every side, and the lawyer suggested that Mr. Buck- 
ley, an old friend of the family, had a team and wagon for 
sale ; they were strong and serviceable and just the thing that 
Will would likely want. I was a minor, but if Mr. Buckley 
was willing to accept me as security for the property there 
would be no difficulty in making the transfer. 

Mr. Buckley proved entirely agreeable to the proposition. 
Will could have the outfit in return for his note with my in- 
dorsement. 

That disposed of, the question of freight to put into the 
wagon arose. I thought of another old friend of the family, 
M. E. Albright, a wholesale grocer in Leavenworth. Would 
he trust Will for a load of supplies? He would. 

Thus everything was arranged satisfactorily, and I hastened 
home to not the easiest task — to prevail upon Will to accept 
assistance at the hands of the little sister who, not so long ago, 
had employed his aid in the matter of a pair of shoes. 

But Will could reall}' do nothing save accept, and proud 
and happy, he sallied forth one day as an individual freighter, 
though not a very formidable rival of Russell, Majors & Wad- 
dell. 

Alas for enterprises started on borrowed capital ! How many 
of them end in disaster, leaving their projectors not only pen- 



LAST OF TIIK GRRAT SCOUTS. 1 25 

niless but in debt. Our young frontiersman, whose life had 
been spent in protecting the property of others, was powerless 
to save his own. Wagon, horses and freight were all cap- 
tured by Indians, and their owner barely escaped with his life. 
From a safe covert he watched the redskins plunge him into 
bankruptcy. It took him several years to recover, and he has 
often remarked that the responsibility of his first business 
venture on borrowed capital aged him pre^laturel3^ 

The nearest station to the scene of this disaster was Junc- 
tion City, and thither he tramped, in the hope of retrieving 
his fortunes. There he met Colonel Hickok, and in the pleas- 
ure of the greeting forgot his business ruin for a space. The 
story of his marriage and his stirring adventures as a landlord 
and lover of his fellow-man were first to be related, and when 
these were commented upon and his old friend had learned, 
too, of the wreck of the freighting enterprise, there came the 
usual inquiry : 

" And now, do you know of a job with some money in it? " 

" There isn't exactly a fortune in it," said Wild Bill, " but 
I'm scouting for Uncle Sam at Fort Ellsworth. The com- 
mandant needs more scouts, and I can vouch for you as a good 
one. ' 

" All right," said Will, always quick in decision, " I'll go 
along with you, and apply for a job at once." 

He was pleased to have Colonel Hickok' s recommendation, 
but it turned out that he did not need it, as his own reputation 
had preceded him. The commandant of the fort was glad to 
add him to the force. The territory he had to scout over lay 
between Forts Ellsworth and Fletcher, and he alternated be- 
tween those points throughout the winter. 

It was at Fort Fletcher, in the spring of '67, that he fell in 
with the dashing General Custer, and the friendship estab 
lished between them was ended only by the death of the general 
at the head of his gallant three hundred. 

This spring was an exceedingly wet one, and the fort, which 
lay upon the bank of Big Creek, was so damaged by floods that 



126 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

it was abandoned. A new fort was erected some distance to 
the westward, on the south fork of the creek, and was named 
Fort Hayes. 

Returning one day from an extended scouting trip. Will dis- 
covered signs indicating that Indians in considerable force were 
in the neighborhood. He at once pushed forward at all speed 
to report the news, when a second discovery took the wind out 
of his sails ; the hostiles were between him and the fort. 

At that moment a party of horsemen broke into view, and 
seeing they were white men, Will waited their approach. The 
little band proved to be General Custer and an escort of ten, 
en route from Fort Ellsworth to Fort Hayes. 

Informed by Will that they were cut off by Indians, and that 
the only hope of escape lay in a rapid flank movement, Cus- 
ter's reply was a terse: 

" Lead on, scout, and we'll follow." 

Will wheeled, clapped spurs to his horse, and dashed away, 
with the others close behind. All hands were sufficiently 
versed in Indian warfare to appreciate the seriousness of their 
position. They pursued a roundabout trail and reached the 
fort without .seeing a hostile, but learned from the reports of 
others that their escape had been a narrow one. 

Custer was on his way to Larned, sixty miles distant, and 
he needed a guide. He requested that Will be assigned to the 
position, so pleased was he by the service already rendered. 

" The very man I proposed to send with you. General," said 
the commandant, who knew well the keen desire of the In- 
dians to get at ' ' Yellow Hair, ' ' as they called Custer. ' ' Cody 
knows this part of the country like a book, he is up to all the 
Indian games, and he is as full of resources as a nut is of 
meat." 

At daybreak the start was made, and it was planned to 
cover the sixty miles before nightfall. Will was mounted on 
a mouse-colored mule, to which he was much attached, and in 
which he had every confidence. Custer, however, was dis- 
posed to regard the lowly steed in some disdain . 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 1 27 

** Do you think, Cody, that mule can set the pace to reach 
Larned in a day? " he asked. 

"When you get to Larned, General," smiled Will, "the 
mule and I will be with 5'ou. " 

Custer said no more for a while, but the pace he set was 
eloquent, and the mouse-colored mule had to run under 
" forced draught " to keep up with the procession. It was a 
killing pace, too, for the horses, which did not possess the 
staying power of the mule. Will was half regretting that he 
had ridden the animal, and was wondering how he could crowd 
on another pound or two of steam, when, suddenly glancing 
at Custer, he caught a gleam of mischief in the general's eye. 
Plainly the latter was seeking to compel an acknowledgment 
of error, but Will only patted the mouse-colored flanks. 

Fifteen miles were told off, Custer's thoroughbred horse 
was still in fine fettle, but the mule had got the second of its 
three or four winds and was read}' for a century run. 

" Can you push along a little faster. General ? " asked Will, 
slyly. 

" If that mule of yours can stand it, go ahead," was the reply. 

To the general's surprise the long-eared animal did go 
ahead, and when the party got into the hills and the travel- 
ing grew heav}', it set a pace that seriously annoyed the 
general's thoroughbred. 

Fifteen miles more were pounded out, and a halt was called 
for luncheon. The horses needed the rest, but the mouse- 
colored mule wore an impatient expression. Having got its 
third wind, it wanted to use it. 

"Well, General," said Will, when they swung off on the 
trail again, " what do you think of my mount ? " 

Custer laughed. " It's not very handsome," said he, " but 
it seems to know what it's about, and so does the rider. 
You're a fine guide, Cody. Like the Indian, you seem to go 
by instinct, rather than by trails and landmarks." 

The praise of Custer was sweeter to the young scout than 
that of any other officer on the plains would have been. 



128 LAST OF TIIR CxRKAT SCOUTS. 

At just four o'clock the mouse-colored mule jogged into 
Fort lyarned and waved a triumphant pair of ears. A short 
distance behind rode Custer, on a thoroughly tired thorough- 
bred, while the escort w^as strung along the trail for a mile 
back. 

" Cod}^" laughed the general, "that remarkable quad- 
ruped of yours looks equal to a return trip. Our horses are 
pretty well fagged out, but we have made a quick trip and a 
good one. You brought us 'cross country straight as the crow 
flies, and that's the sort of service I appreciate. Any time 
you're in need of work report to me. I'll see that 3'ou're kept 
busy." 

It was Custer's intention to remain at Fort Lamed for some 
time, and Will, knowing that he w^as needed at Hayes, tarried 
only for supper and a short rest before starting back. 

When night fell he proceeded warily. On the way out he 
had directed Custer's attention to signs denoting the nearby 
presence of a small band of mounted Indians. 

Suddenly a distant light flashed into view, but before he 
could check his mule it had vanished. He rode back a few 
paces and the light reappeared. Evidently it was visible 
through some narrow space, and the matter called for investi- 
gation. Will dismounted, hitched his mule and went forward. 

After he had covered half a mile he found himself between 
two sandhills, the pass leading into a little hollow, within which 
were a large number of Indians camped around the fire whose 
light he had followed. The ponies were in the background. 

Will's position was somewhat ticklish, as, without a doubt, 
an Indian sentinel was posted in the pass; yet it was his duty, 
as he understood it, to obtain a measurably accurate estimate 
of the number of warriors in the band. Himself a very Indian 
in stealth, he drew nearer the campfire, when suddenly there 
rang out upon the night air — not a rifle shot, but the un- 
earthly braying of his mule. 

Even in the daylight, amid scenes of peace and tranquillity, 
the voice of a mule falls short of the not enchanting music of 



LAST OF THE GRKAT SCOUTS. 129 

the bagpipe. At night in the wilderness, when every nerve is 
keyed up to the snapping point, the sound is simply appalling. 

Will was startled, naturally, but the Indians were thrown 
into dire confusion. They smothered the campfires and scat- 
tered for cover, while a sentinel sprang up from behind a rock 
not twenty feet from Will, and was off like a deer. 

The scout held his ground till he had made a good guess at 
the number of Indians in the party; then he ran for his mule, 
whose voice, raised in seeming protest, guided him unerringly. 

As he neared the animal he saw that two mounted Indians 
had laid hold of it, and were trying to induce it to follow 
them, but the mule, true to tradition and its master, stub- 
bornly refused to budge a foot. 

It was a comical tableau, but Will realized that it was but a 
Step from farce to tragedy. A rifle shot dropped one of the 
Indians, and the other darted off into the darkness. 

Another bray from the mule, this time a paean of triumph, 
as Will jumped into the saddle, with an arrow from the bow 
of the wounded Indian through his coat sleeve. He declined 
to return the fire of the wounded wretch, and rode away into 
the timber, while all around the sound of Indians in pursuit 
came to his ears. 

"Now, my mouse-colored friend," said Will, "if 3'ou win 
this race your name is Custer." 

The mule seemed to understand ; at all events it settled 
down to work that combined the speed of a racer with the 
endurance of a buffalo. The Indians shortly abandoned the 
pursuit, as they could not see their g^me. 

Will reached Fort Hayes in the early morning, to report the 
safe arrival of Custer at learned and the discovery of the 
Indian band, which he estimated at two hundred braves. The 
mule received "honorable mention" in his report, and was 
brevetted a thoroughbred. 

The colonel prepared to dispatch troops against the Indians, 
and requested Will to guide the expedition if he were suffi- 
ciently rested, adding with a smile: 



130 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

'* You may ride your mule if you like." 

"No, thank you," laughed Will. "It isn't safe, sir, to 
hunt Indians with an animal that cardes a brass band attach- 
ment." 

Major Ames, of the Tenth Cavalry, was to command the 
expedition, which comprised a troop of colored cavalry and a 
howitzer. As the command lined up for the start, a courier 
on a foam-splashed horse rode up with the news that the work- 
men on the Kansas Pacific Railroad had been attacked by In- 
dians, six of them killed, and over a hundred horses and mules 
and a quantity of stores stolen. 

The troops rode away at a swift pace, the colored boys pant- 
ing for a chance at the redskins, and Major Ames more than 
willing to gratify them. 

At nightfall the command made camp near the Saline River, 
at which point it was expected to find the Indians. Before 
dawn they were in the saddle again, riding straight across 
country, regardless of trails, until the river was come up with. 

Will's judgment was again verified by the discovery of a 
large camp of hostiles on the opposite bank of the stream. 
The warriors were as quick of eye, and as they greatly out- 
numbered the soldiers, and were emboldened by the success of 
their late exploit, they did not wait the attack, but came 
charging across the river. 

They were nearly a mile distant, and Major Ames had time 
to plant the howitzer on a little rise of ground. Twenty men 
were left to handle it. The rest of the command advanced to 
the combat. 

They were just at the point of attack when a fierce yelling 
was heard in the rear, and the major discovered that his re- 
treat to the gun was cut off by another band of reds, and that 
he was between two fires. His only course was to repulse the 
enemy in front. If this were done, and the colored gunners 
did not flee before the overwhelming numbers, he might unite 
his forces by another charge. 

The warriors came on with their usual impetuosity, whoop- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. I3I 

ing and screaming, but they met such a raking fire from the 
disciplined troops that they fell back in disorder. Just then 
the men at the howitzer opened fire. The effect of this field- 
piece on the children of the plains was magical — almost ludi- 
crous — a veritable stampede followed. 

" Follow me ! " shouted Major Ames, galloping in pursuit, 
but in their eagerness to give chase the troops fell into such 
disorder that a bugle-blast recalled them before any further 
damage was done the flying foe. The Indians kept right 
along, however ; they were pretty badly frightened. 

Major Ames was somewhat chagrined that he had no prison- 
ers, but there was consolation in taking back nearly all the 
horses that had been stolen. These were found picketed at 
the camp across the river, where likely they had been forgot- 
ten by the Indians in their flight. 

Shortly after this. Will tried his hand at land speculation. 
During one of his scouting trips to Fort Harker he visited 
Ellsworth, a new settlement three miles from the fort. There 
he met a man named Rose, who had a grading contract for the 
Kansas Pacific Railroad, near F^ort Hayes. Rose had bought 
land at a point through which the railroad was to run, and 
proposed staking it out as a town, but he needed a partner in 
the enterprise. 

The site was a good one. Big Creek was hard by, and it 
was near enough to the fort to afford settlers reasonable secu- 
rity against Indian raids. Will regarded the enterprise favor- 
ably. Besides the money sent home each month, he had put 
by a small sum, and this he invested in the partnership with 
Rose. 

The town site was surveyed and staked off into lots ; a cabin 
was erected and stocked with such goods as are needed on the 
frontier, and the budding metropolis was weighted with the 
classic name of Rome. 

As an encouragement to settlers, a lot was offered to any one 
that would agree to erect a building. The proprietors, of course, 
reserved the choicest lots. 



132 LAST OF THE GREAT vSCOUTS. 

Rome boomed. Two hundred cabins went up in less than 
sixt3' daj-s. Mr. Rose and Will shook hands and complimented 
each other on their penetration and business sagacity. They 
were coming millionaires, they said. Alas ! they were but babes 
in the woods. 

One day Dr. W. E. Webb alighted in Rome. He was a 
gentleman of most amiable exterior, and when he entered the 
store of Rose & Cody they prepared to dispose of a large bill 
of goods. But Mr. Webb was not buying groceries. He chat- 
ted a while about the weather and Rome, and then suggested 
that the firm needed a third partner. But this was the last 
thing the prospective millionaires had in mind, and the sug- 
gestion of their visitor was mildly but firmly waived. 

Dr. Webb was not a gentleman to insist upon a suggestion. 
He was locating tow'ns for the Kansas Pacific Railroad he said, 
and as Rome was well started he disliked to interfere with it, 
but, really, the company must have a show. 

Neither Mr. Rose nor Will had had experience with the 
power of a big corporation, and satisfied that they had the 
only good .site for a town in that vicinity, they declared that 
the railroad could not help itself. 

Dr. Webb smiled pleasantly, and not without compassion. 
" Look out for yourselves," said he, as he took his leave. 

And within sight of Rome he located a new town. The 
citizens of Rome were given to understand that the railroad 
shops would be built at the new settlement, and that there was 
really nothing to prevent it becoming the metropolis of Kan- 
sas. 

Rome became a wilderness. Its citizens stampeded to the 
new town, and Mr. Rose and Will revised their estimate of 
their penetration and business sagacity. 

Meantime the home in Leavenworth had been gladdened by 
the birth of a little daughter, whom her father named Arta. As 
it was impossible for Will to return for some months, it was 
planned that the mother, the baby and I, should make a visit 
to the St. Louis home. This was accomplished safely, and 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 1 33 

while the grandparents were enraptured with the baby, I was 
enjojing the delight of a first visit to a large city. 

When the new town was regarded as an assured success by 
Will, he had journeyed to St. Louis after his wife and little 
one. They proceeded with him to the cozy cabin home he had 
fitted up, while I went back to Leavenworth. 

The sojourn of the family on the frontier was very brief. 
After the fall of Rome it was no longer the desirable residence 
that Will's dreams had pictured it, and as Rome passed into 
oblivion the little family returned to St. Louis. 



CHAPTER XVII. 



HOW THE SOBRIQUET OF "BUFFALO BILL'* WAS WON — THE 
REMARKABLE PERFORMANCES OF BRIGHAM AND LUCRE- 
TIA BORGIA — A CONTEST OF SKILL IN BUFFALO HUNTING 
— WILL RETURNS TO SCOUTING — A DANGEROUS RIDE — A 
TRICKY MULE, AND WHAT HAPPENED TO IT. 

N frontier days a man had but to 
ask for work to get it. There 
was enough and to spare for 
every one. The work that paid 
best was the kind that suited 
Will, it mattered not how hard 
or dangerous it might be. 

At the time Rome fell the 
work on the Kansas Pacific 
Railroad was pushing forward 
at a rapid rate, and the junior 
member of the once prosperous 
firm of Rose & Cody saw a new 
field of activity open for him 
— that of buffalo hunting. Twelve hundred men were em- 
ployed on the railroad construction, and Goddard Brothers, 
who had undertaken to board the vast crew, were hard pressed 
to obtain fresh meat. To supply this indispensable buffalo 
hunters were employed, and as Will was known to be an ex- 
pert buffalo slayer, Goddard Brothers were glad to add him to 
their ' ' commissary staff. ' ' His contract with them called for 
an average of twelve buffaloes dailj^, for which he was to receive 
five hundred dollars a month. It was " good pay," the desired 
feature, but the work was hard and hazardous. He must first 
scour the country for his game, with a good prospect always 
134 




LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. I35 

of finding Indians instead of buffalo ; then, when the game was 
shot, he must oversee its cutting and dressing and look after 
the wagons that transported it to the camp where the workmen 
messed. It was while working under this contract that he ac- 
quired the sobriquet of " Buffalo Bill." It clung to him ever 
after, and he wore it with more pride than he would have done 
the title of Prince or Grand Duke. Probably there are thou- 
sands of people to-day who know him by that name only. 

At the outset he procured a trained buffalo-hunting horse, 
which went by the unconventional name of " Brigham," and 
from the government he obtained an improved, breech-loading 
needle-gun, which, in testimony of its murderous qualities, he 
named " I^ucretia Borgia." 

Buffaloes were usually plentiful enough, but there were times 
when the camp supply of meat ran short. During one of these 
dull spells, when the company was pressed for horses, Brigham 
was hitched to a scraper. One can imagine his indignation. A 
racer dragging a street-car would have no juster cause for re- 
belling than a bufifalo-hunter tied to a work implement in the 
company of stupid horses that never had a thought above a 
plow, a hay-rake, or a scraper. Brigham expostulated, and in 
such plain language that Will, laughing, was on the point of 
unhitching him when a cry went up — the equivalent of a whal- 
er's "There she blows !" — that a herd of buffaloes was coming 
over the hill. 

Brigham and the scraper parted company instantly and Will 
mounted him bareback, the saddle being at the camp a mile 
away. Shouting an order to the men to follow him with a 
wagon to take back the meat, he galloped toward the game. 

There were other hunters that day. Five officers rode out 
of the neighboring fort and joined Will while waiting for the 
buffaloes to come up. They were recent arrivals in that part 
of the country, and their shoulder-straps indicated that one 
was a captain and the others were lieutenants. They did not 
know " Buffalo Bill." They saw nothing but a good-looking 
young man in the dress of a working man, astride a not hand- 



136 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

some horse, which had a blind bridle and no saddle. It was 
not a formidable looking hunting outfit, and the captain was 
disposed to be a trifle patronizing. 

"Hello!" he called out. "I see you're after the same 
game we are ! " 

' ' Yes, sir , " returned Will. ' * Our camp' s out of fresh meat. ' ' 

The oflEicer ran a critical eye over Brigham. " Do you ex- , 
pect to run down a buffalo with a horse like that ?' ' said he. -~f~ 

"Why," said Will, innocently, "are buffaloes pretty 
speedy ? ' ' 

" Speedy ? It takes a fast horse to overhaul those animals 
on the open prairie." 

' ' Does it ? " said Will, and the officer did not see the twinkle 
in his eye. Nothing amuses a man more than to be instructed 
on a matter that he knows thoroughly, and concerning which 
his instructor knows nothing. Probably every one of the 
officers had yet to shoot his first buffalo. 

"Come along with us," offered the captain, graciously. 
" We're going to kill a few for sport, and all we care for are 
the tongues and a chunk of the tenderloin; you can have the 
rest." 

' ' Thank you, ' ' said Will. " I' 11 follow along. ' ' 

There were eleven buffaloes in the herd, and the oflScers 
started after thern as if they had a sure thing on the entire 
number. Will noticed that the game was pointed toward a 
creek, and understanding "the nature of the beast," started 
for the water to head them off. 

As the herd went past him, with the military quintet five 
hundred yards in the rear, he gave Brigham' s blind bridle a 
twitch, and in a few jumps the trained hunter was at the side 
of the rear buffalo, IvUcretia Borgia spoke, and the buffalo fell 
dead. Without even a bridle signal, Brigham was promptly 
at the side of the next buffalo, not ten feet away, and this, too, 
fell at the first shot. The maneuver was repeated until the 
last buffalo went down. Twelve shots had been fired, then 
Brigham, who never wasted his strength, stopped. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. I37 

The officers had not had even a shot at the game. Astonish- 
ment was written on their faces as they rode up. 

"Gentlemen," said Will, courteously, as he dismounted, 
" allow me to present you with eleven tongues and as much of 
the tenderloin as you wish." 

" By jove! " exclaimed the captain, " I never saw anything 
like that before. Who are you, anyway ? " 

"Will Cody's my name." 

" Well, Will Cody, you know how to kill buffalo, and that 
horse of yours has some good running points after all." 

" One or two," smiled Will. 

Captain Graham — as his name proved to be — and his com- 
panions were a trifle sore over missing even the opportunity of 
a shot, but they professed to be more than repaid for their dis- 
appointment by witnessing a feat they had not supposed pos- 
sible in a white man — hunting buffalo without a saddle, bridle 
or reins. Will explained that Brigham knew more about the 
business than most two-legged hunters. All the rider was ex- 
pected to do was to shoot the buffalo. If the first shot failed, 
Brigham allowed another, if this, too, failed, Brigham lost pa- 
tience, and was as likely as not to drop the matter then and 
there. 

It was this episode that fastened the name of "Buffalo Bill" 
upon Will, and learning of it, the friends of Billy Comstock, 
chief of scouts at Fort Wallace, filed a protest. Comstock, 
they said, was Cody's superior as a buffalo hunter. So a 
match was arranged to determine whether it should be 
" Buffalo Bill " Cody or " Buffalo Bill " Comstock. 

The hunting ground was fixed near Sheridan, Kansas, and 
quite a crowd of spectators were attracted by the news of the 
contest. Officers, soldiers, plainsmen and railroad men took a 
day off to see the sport, and one excuisiou party that included 
many ladies, among them Louise, came up from St. Louis. 

Referees were appointed to follow each man and keep a tally 
of the buffaloes slain. Comstock was mounted on his favorite 
horse and carried a Henry rifle of large caliber. Brigham and 



138 LAST OF Tim GREAT SCOUTS. 

Liicretia went with Will. The two hunters rode side by side 
until the first herd was sighted and the word given, when off 
they dashed to the attack, separating to the right and left- In 
this first trial Will killed thirty-eight and Comstock twenty- 
three. They had ridden miles, and the carcasses of the dead 
buffaloes were strung all over the prairie. Luncheon was 
served at noon, and scarcely was it over when another herd 
was sighted, composed mainly of cows with their calves. The 
damage to this herd was eighteen and fourteen, in favor of 
Cody. 

In those days the prairies were alive with buffalo, and a 
third herd put in an appearance before the rifle barrels were 
cooled. In order to give Brigham a share of the glory, Will 
pulled off saddle and bridle and advanced bare-back to the 
slaughter. 

That closed the contest. Score, sixty-nine to forty-eight. 
Comstock' s friends surrendered, and Cody was dubbed 
" Champion Buffalo Hunter of the Plains." 

The heads of the buffaloes that fell in this hunt were mounted 
by the Kansas Pacific Company and distributed about the 
countr}', as advertisements of the region the new road was 
traversing. Meantime Will continued hunting for the Kansas 
Pacific contractors, and during the year and a half that he 
supplied them with fresh meat he killed four thousand two 
hundred and eighty buffaloes. But when the railroad reached 
vSheridau it was decided to build no farther at that time, and 
Will was obliged to look for other work. 

The Indians had again become so troublesome that a general 
war threatened all along the border, and General Sheridan 
came West to personally direct operations. He took up his 
quarters at Fort Hayes, where " Buffalo Bill " at once applied 
for a position as military scout. The application was accepted 
and he was assigned to Fort lyarned. 

Shortly afterward it became necessary to send dispatches 
from Fort Hayes to Fort Dodge. Ninety-five miles of countrj' 
lay between, and every mile of it was dangerous ground. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 1 39 

Fort Dodge was surrounded by Indians, and three scouts had 
lately been killed while trying to get dispatches through, but 
Will's confidence in himself or his destiny was unshakable, and 
he volunteered to take the dispatches as far, at least, as the 
Indians would let him. 

" It is a dangerous undertaking," said General Sheridan, 
' ' but it is most important that the dispatches should go through; 
so if 5^ou are willing to risk it, take the best horse you can find, 
and the sooner you start the better. ' ' 

Within the hour the scout was in the saddle. At the outset 
Will permitted his horse to set his own pace, for in case of 
pursuit he should want the animal fresh enough to at least hold 
his own. But no pursuit materialized, and when the dawn 
came up he had covered seventy miles, and reached a station 
on Pawnee Fork manned by colored troops. Here he delivered 
a letter to Major Cox, the officer in command, and after eating 
breakfast he took a fresh horse and resumed his journey before 
the sun was above the plain. 

Fort Dodge was reached, the dispatches delivered by nine 
o'clock, and Will turned in for a needed sleep. When he 
awoke, he was assured by John Austin, chief of the scouts at 
Dodge, that his coming through unharmed from Fort Hayes 
was little short of a miracle. He was also assured that a jour- 
ney to his own headquarters, Fort Larned, would be even more 
ticklish than his late ride, as the hostiles were especially thick 
in that direction. But the officer in command at Dodge de- 
sired to send dispatches to Larned, and as none of the other 
scouts were willing to take them, W^ill volunteered his services. 

" Larned's my headquarters," said he, " and Imust go there 
anyway; so if you'll give me a good horse, I'll take your 
dispatches." 

" We haven't a decent horse left," said the officer, "but you 
can take your pick of some fine government mules. ' ' 

Will made a gesture of despair. Another race on mule-back 
with Indians was not an inviting prospect. There were very 
few mules like unto his quondam mouse-colored mount. But 



V 



140 LAST OF THE GREAT vSCOUTS. 

he succumbed to the inevitable, picked out the most enterpris- 
ing looking mule in the bunch and set forth. And neither he 
nor the mule guessed what was in store for each of them. 

At Coon Creek Will dismounted for a drink of water, and 
the mule embraced the opportunity to pull awaj^ and start alone 
on the wagon trail to Larned. Will did not suspect that he 
should have any trouble in overtaking the capricious beast, 
but at the end of a mile he was somewhat concerned. He had 
threatened and entreated, raged and cajoled, 'Twasall'wasted, 
The mule was as deaf to prayer as to objurgation. It browsed 
contentedly along the even tenor of its way, so near and 5^et 
so far from the young man, who, like "panting time, toil'd 
after it in vain." And lyarned much more than twenty 
miles away. 

What the poet calls ' ' the golden exhalations of the dawn ' ' 
began to warm the grey of the plain. The sun was in the roots 
of the grass. Four miles away the lights of Larned twinkled. 
The only blot on a fair landscape was the mule — in the middle 
distance. But there was a wicked gleam in the eye of the foot- 
sore young man in the foreground. 

Boom ! The sunrise gun at the fort. The mule threw back 
its head, waved its ears and poured forth a song of triumph, 
a loud exultant bray. 

Crack ! Will's rifle. Down went the mule. It had made 
the fatal mistake of gloating over its villainy. Never again 
would it jeopardize the life of a rider. 

It had been a thirty-five mile walk, and every bone in Will's 
body ached. His shot alarmed the garrison, but he was soon 
on the ground with the explanation, and after turning over his 
dispatches, he sought his bed. 

During the day General Hazen returned under escort from 
Fort Harker with dispatches for Sheridan, and Will offered to 
be the bearer of them. An army mule was suggested, but he 
declined to again put his life in the keeping of such an animal. 
A good horse was selected and the journey made without inci- 
dent. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 141 

General Sheridan was roused at daylight to receive the 
scout's report, and praised Will warmly for having undertaken 
and safely accomplished three such long and dangerous rides. 
More substantial commendation came later in the form of pro- 
motion, Will being detailed as special scout for General Hazen, 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

SATANTA, CHIEF OF THE KIOWAS — SCOUT CODY IS CAPTURED 
AND TOMAHAWKED " FOR A JOKE " — A STERN CHASE — 
ONE WAY OF BRINGING MEAT INTO CAMP — GENERAL. 
CARR'S EXPEDITION — A BIG BATTLE WITH THE REDSKINS. 




^ i^ ^~ - ITHIN plain view of Fort Larned 

lay a large camp of Kiowas and 
Cotiianches. They were not 
yet bedaubed with war paint, 
but they were as restless as a 
panther in a cage, and it was 
only a matter of days when 
they would Vv'hoop and howl 
with the loudest. 

The principal chief of the 
Kiowas was Satanta, a pow- 
erful and resourceful warrior, 
who because of remarkable tal- 
ents for speech-making was 
called ' ' the Orator of the Plains. ' ' Satanta was short and 
bullet-headed. Hatred for the whites swelled every square 
inch of his breast, but he had the deep cunning of his people, 
with some especially fine points of treachery learned from deal- 
ings with dishonest agents and traders. There probably never 
was an Indian so depraved that he could not be corrupted fur- 
ther by association with a rascally white man. 

When the Kiowas were friendly with the government Sa- 
tanta received a guest with all the magnificence the tribe 
afforded. A carpet was spread for the white man to sit upon, 
142 



LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS. 1 43 

and a folding board was set up for a table. The question of 
expense never intruded. 

Individually, too, Satanta put on a great deal of style. Had 
the opportunity come to him, he would have worn a silk hat 
with a sack-coat, or a dress suit in the afternoon. As it was, 
he produced some startling effects with blanket and feathers. 

It was part of General Hazen's mission to Fort learned to patch 
up a treaty with the outraged Kiowasand Coraanches, if it could 
be brought about. On one warm August morning, the gen- 
eral set out for Fort Zarah, on a tour of inspection. Zarah 
was on the Arkansas, in what is now Barton County, Kansas. 
An early start was made, as it was desired to cover the thirty 
miles by noon. The general rode in a four-mule army ambu- 
lance, with an escort of ten foot-soldiers, in a four-mule escort 
wagon. 

After dinner at Zarah the general went on to Fort Harker, 
leaving orders for the scout and soldiers to return to Larned 
on the following day. But as there was nothing to do at Fort 
Zarah, Will determined to return at once, so he trimmed the 
sails of his mule-ship and squared away for Larned. 

The first half of the journey was without incident, but when 
Pawnee Rock was reached, events began to crowd one another. 
Some forty Indians rode out from behind the rock and sur- 
rounded the scout. 

" How? How? " they cried, as they drew near, aod offered 
their hands for the white man's salutation. 

The braves were in war paint, and intended mischief, but 
there was nothing to be lost by returning their greeting, so 
Will extended his hand. 

One warrior seized it and gave it a violent jerk; another 
caught the mule's bridle; a third pulled the revolvers from the 
holsters; a fourth snatched the rifle from across the saddle; 
while a fifth, for a climax, dealt Will a blow on the head with 
a tomahawk that nearly stunned him. 

Then the band started for the Arkansas River, lashing the 
mule, singing, yelling and whooping. For one supposed to 



144 I'AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

be stolid and taciturn, the Indian makes a good deal of noise 
at times. 

Across the river was a vast throng of warriors, who had 
finally decided to go on the war-path. Will and his captors 
forded the shallow stream, and the prisoner was conducted 
before the chiefs of the tribe, with some of whom he was ac- 
quainted. 

His head throbbed from the tomahawking, but his wits were 
still in working order, and when asked by Satanta where he 
had been, he replied that he had been out searching for 
" whoa-haws." 

He knew that the Indians had been promised a herd of 
"whoa-haws," as they termed cattle, and he knew, too, that 
the herd had not arrived, and that the Indians had been out of 
meat for several weeks, hence he hoped to enlist Satanta' s 
sympathetic interest. 

He succeeded. Satanta was vastly interested. Where were 
the cattle ? Oh, a few miles back. Will had been sent for- 
ward to notify the Indians that an army of sirloin steaks was 
advancing upon them. 

Satanta was much pleased, and the other chiefs were like- 
wise interested. Did General Hazen say the cattle were for 
them ? Was there a chance that the scout was mistaken ? 

Not a chance, and with becoming dignity' Will demanded a 
reason for the rough treatment he had received. 

Oh, that was all a joke, Satanta explained. The Indians 
who had captured the white chief were young and frisky. 
They wished to see whether he was brave. They were simply 
testing him. It was sport — just a joke. 

Will did not offer to argue the matter. No doubt an excel- 
lent test of a man's courage is to hit him over the head with a 
tomahawk. If he lives through it, he is brave as Agamemnon. 
But Will insisted mildly that it was a rough way to treat 
friends, whereupon Satanta read the riot act to his high-spirited 
young men and bade them return the captured weapons to the 
scout. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 1 45 

The next question was, were there soldiers with the cattle ? 
Certainly, replied Will, a large party of soldiers were escorting 
the succulent sirloins. This intelligence necessitated another 
consultation. Evidently hostilities must be postponed until 
after the cattle had arrived. Would Will drive the cattle to 
them ? He would be delighted to. Did he desire that the 
chief's young men should accompany him ? No, indeed. The 
soldiers, also, were high-spirited, and they might test the 
bravery of the chief's young men by shooting large holes 
in them. It would be much better if the scout returned 
alone. 

Satanta agreed with him, and Will recrossed the river with- 
out molestation, but, glancing over his shoulder, he noted a 
party of ten or fifteen young braves slowly following him. Sa- 
tanta was an extremely cautious chieftain. 

Will rode leisurely up the gentle slope of the river's bank, 
but when he had put the ridge between him and the Indian 
camp he pointed his mule westward toward Fort Learned and 
set it going at its best pace. When the Indians reached the 
top of the ridge, from where they could scan the valley, in 
which the advancing cattle were supposed to be, there was not 
a horn to be seen, and the scout was flying in an opposite di- 
rection. 

They gave chase, but the mule had a good start, and when 
it got its second wind — always necessary in a mule — the In- 
dian ponies gained but slowly. When Ash Creek, six miles 
from Larned, was reached, the race was about even, but 
at Pawnee Rock, two miles farther on, the Indians were un- 
comfortably close behind. The sunset gun at the fort boomed 
a cynical welcome to the man four miles away, flying toward it 
for his life. 

At Pawnee Fork, two miles from the fort, the Indians had 
crept up to within five hundred yards. But here, on the farther 
bank of the stream, Will came upon a government wagon con- 
taining half a dozen soldiers and Denver Jim, a well-known 
scout. 



146 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

The team was driven among the trees, and the men hid them- 
selves in the bushes, and when the Indians came along they 
were warmly received. Two of the reds were killed ; the others 
wheeled and rode back in safety. 

In 1868 General Sheridan had taken command of all the 
troops in the field. He arranged what is known as the winter 
expeditions against the Kiawas, Comanches, Southern Chey- 
ennes and Arapahoes, He personally commanded_the expe- 
dition which left Fort Dodge with General Custer as chief of 
cavalry, while General Evans, of the Third U. S. Cavalry, 
started for Fort Union, New Mexico. General Penrose started 
for Fort Lyon, Colorado, and General Carr was ordered from 
the Republican River country with the Fifth Cavalry to Fort 
Wallace, Kansas, Will at this time had a company of forty 
scouts with General Carr's command. He was ordered by 
General Sheridan when leaving Fort Lyon to follow the trail 
of General Penrose's command until it was overtaken. General 
Carr was to proceed to Fort Lyon, and follow on the trail of 
General Penrose, who had started from there three weeks be- 
fore, when, as Carr ranked Penrose, he would then take com- 
mand of both expeditions. It was the 21st of Novem- 
ber when Carr's expedition left Fort Lyon. The second day 
out they encountered a terrible snow storm and blizzard in a 
place they christened " Freeze Out Canon" by which name 
it is still known. As Penrose had only a pack train and no 
heavy wagons and the ground was covered with snow, it was a 
very difficult matter to follow his trail. But taking his general 
course they finally came up with him on the south fork of the 
Canadian River, where they found him and his soldiers in a 
sorry plight, subsisting wholly on buffalo meat. Their ani- 
mals had all frozen to death. 

General Carr made what is known as a supply camp, leaving 
Penrose's command and some of his own disabled stock therein. 
Taking with him the Fifth Cavalry and the best horses and 
pack mules, he started south toward the main fork of the Cana- 
dian River, looking for the Indians. He was gone from the 



tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTvS. 1 47 

supply camp thirty days, but could not locate the main band of 
Indians, as they were further to the east, where General 
Sheridan had located them, and had sent General Custer in to 
fight them, which he did, in what is known as the great battle 
of Wichita. 

They had a very severe winter and returned in March to 
Fortl^yon, Colorado. 

In the spring of 1869 they moved to Fort McPherson, Ne- 
braska. 

In the spring of '69, the Fifth Cavalry, ordered to the De- 
partment of the Platte, took up the line of march for Fort Mc- 
Pherson, Nebraska, and for this expedition Will was appointed 
guide and chief of scouts. 

It was a large command, including seventy-six wagons for 
stores, ambulance wagons and pack-mules. Those chief in 
authority were Colonel Royal (afterward superseded by Gen- 
eral Carr), Major Brown and Captain Sweetman. 

The average distance covered dailj^ was only ten miles, and 
when the troops reached the Solomon River there was no fresh 
meat in camp. Colonel Royal asked Will to look up some 
game. 

" All right, sir," said Will. " Will you send a couple of 
wagons along to fetch in the meat ? ' ' 

" We'll send for the game, Cody, when there's some game 
to send for," curtly replied the colonel. 

That settled the matter, surely, and Will rode away, a trifle 
ruffled in temper. 

He was not long in rounding up a herd of seven buffaloes, 
and he headed them straight for camp. As he drew near the 
lines he rode alongside his game and brought down one after 
another, until only an old bull remained. This he killed in 
almost the center of the camp. 

The charge of the buffaloes had nearly stampeded the 
picketed horses, and Colonel Royal, who with the other oflScers 
had watched the hunt, demanded somewhat angrily : 

" What does this mean, Cody ? " 



148 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

" Why," said Will, "I thought, sir, I'd save you the 
trouble of sending after the game. ' ' 

The colonel smiled, though perhaps the other oflScers en- 
joyed the joke more than he. 

At the north fork of the Beaver Will discovered a large and 
fresh Indian trail. The tracks were scattered all over the 
valley, showing that a large village had recently passed that 
way. Will estimated that at least four hundred lodges were 
represented ; that w^ould mean from twenty -five hundred to 
Ihree thousand warriors, squaws and children. 

When General Carr (who had taken the command) got the 
news he followed down a ravine to Beaver Creek, and here the 
regiment went into camp. lyieutenant Ward and a dozen men 
were detailed to accompany Will on a reconnaissance. They 
followed Beaver Creek for twelve miles, and then the lieuten- 
ant and the scout climbed a knoll for a survey of the country. 
One glance took in a large Indian village some three miles dis- 
tant. Thousands of ponies were picketed out, and small bands 
of warriors were seen returning from the hunt, laden with 
buffalo meat. 

" I think, I,ieutenant," said Will, " that we have important 
business at camp." 

" I agree with you," said Ward. "The quicker we get 
out of here, the better." 

When they rejoined the men at the foot of the hill Ward 
dispatched a courier to General Carr, the purpose of the lieu- 
tenant being to follow slowly and meet the troops, which he 
knew would be sent forward. 

The courier rode away at a gallop, but in a few moments 
came riding back with three Indians at his horse's heels. The 
little company charged the warriors, who turned an"d fled for 
the village. 

" lyieutenant," said Will, " give me that note," and as it was 
passed over, he clapped spurs to his horse and started for the 
camp. 

He had proceeded but a short distance when he came upon 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 149 

another partj' of Indians returning to the village with buffalo 
meat. Without stopping he fired a long-range shot at them, and 
while they hesitated, puzzled by the action, he galloped past. 
The warriors were not long in recovering from their surprise, 
and cutting loose their meat, followed, but their ponies were 
tired from a long hunt, and Will's fresh horse ran away from 
them. 

When General Carr received the lieutenant's dispatch he 
ordered the bugler to sound the inspiriting " Boots and Sad- 
dles," and, while two companies remained to guard the 
wagons, the rest of the troops hastened against the Indians." 

Three miles out they were joined by Lieutenant Ward's 
company, and five miles more brought them within sight of a 
huge mass of mounted Indians advancing up the creek. These 
warriors were covering the retreat of their squaws, who were 
packing up and getting ready for hasty flight. 

General Carr ordered a charge on the red line. If it were 
broken the cavalry was to continue and surround the village. 
The movement was successfully executed, but one ofl&cer mis- 
understood the order, and, charging on the left wing of the 
hostiles, was speedily hemmed in by some three hun- 
dred redskins. Reinforcements were dispatched to his relief, 
but the plan of battle was spoiled, and the remainder of the 
afternoon was spent in contesting the ground with the Indians, 
who fought for their lodges, squaws and children with desper- 
ate and dogged courage. When night came on, the wagon 
trains, which had been ordered to follow, had not put in an 
appearance, and, though the regiment went back to look for 
them, it was nine o'clock before they were reached. 

Camp was broken at daybreak, and the pursuit began, but 
not an Indian was in sight. All the day the trail was fol- 
lowed. There was evidence that the Indians had abandoned 
everything that might hinder their flight. That night the 
regiment camped on the banks of the Republican, and the 
next morning caught a distant glimpse of the foe. 

About eleven o'clock a charge was made by three hundre'l 



150 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

mounted warriors, but they were repulsed with considerable 
loss, and when they discovered that defeat was certain, they 
evaded further pursuit by breaking up into companies and 
scattering to all points of the compass. A large number of 
ponies were collected as trophies of this expedition. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



AT FORT MCPHERSON — PAWNEE SCOUTS — " BUCKSKIN JOE" — 
THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE SIOUX — THE STAND IN THE 
RAVINE — A LONG SHOT, AND THE FALL OF TALL BULL — 
HIS widow's sentiments. 



~^n.Jr>y 



N due time the Fifth Cavalry 
reached Fort McPherson. 
General Augur was in com- 
mand of the Department of the 
Platte, with his headquarters 
at Omaha. Will's fancy had 
been so taken by the scenery 
along the line of march that 
he proceeded to explore the 
country around McPherson, 
the result being a determina- 
tion to make his future home 
in the Platte Valley. 

Shortly after reaching the 
fort the scouts' division of the Fifth Cavalry was reinforced by 
Major Frank North and three companies of the celebrated 
Pawnee scouts. These became the most interesting and amus- 
ing objects in camp, partly on account of their race, but mainly 
because of the bizarre dress fashions they affected. My brother 
in his autobiography describes the appearance presented by 
these scouts during a review of the command by Brigadier- 
General Duncan. 

The regiment made a fine showing, the men were well 
drilled and thoroughly versed in the tactics. The Pawnees 
also showed up well on drill, but their full-dress uniforms were 

151 




152 LAST OF THE GREAT .SCOUTS. 

calculated to excite even the army horses to laughter. Regular 
cavalry suits had been furnished them, but no two of the 
Pawnees seemed to agree as to the correct manner in which the 
various articles should be worn. As they lined up for dress 
parade some of them wore heavy overcoats, others discarded 
even pantaloons, content with a breech -clout. Some wore 
large black hats, with brass accoutrements, otlieii^s were bare- 
headed. Many wore the pantaloons, but declined the shirts, 
while a few of the more original cut the seats from the panta- 
loons, leaving only leggings. Half of them were without 
boots or moccasins, but wore the clinking spurs with manifest 
pride. 

They were a quaint and curious lot, but drilled remarkably 
well for Indians, and obeyed orders. They were devoted to 
their white chief, Major North, who spoke Pawnee like a 
native, and they were very proud of their position in the 
United States Army. Good soldiers they made, too — hard 
riders, crack shots, and desperate fighters. 

At the clOvSe of the parade and review referred to, the 
officers and the ladies attended an Indian dance given by the 
Pawnees, which climaxed a rather exciting day. 

The following morning an expedition moved back to the 
Republican River, to curb the high spirits of a band of Sioux, 
who had grown boldly troublesome. This was the sort of 
service the Pawnees welcomed, as they and the Sioux were 
hereditary enemies. 

At the journey's end camp was made at the mouth of the 
Beaver, and the Sioux were heard from within the hour. A 
party of them raided the mules that had been taken to the 
river, and the alarm v/as given by a herder, who dnshed into 
camp w^ith an arrow sticking in his shoulder. 

Will did not wait to saddle his horse, but the Pawnees were 
as quick as he, and both of them rather surprised the Sioux, 
who did not expect such a swift response. Especially were 
they surprised to find themselves confronted by their tribal 
foe, the Pawnee, and they fell back hastily, closely pressed by 



I^AST OF THR GRRAT SCOUTS. I53 

Will aud his red allies. A running fight was kept up for 
fifteen miles, and when many of the Sioux had been stretched 
upon the plain and the others scattered, the pursuing party 
returned to camp. 

Will, himself on a fine horse, had been somewhat chagrined 
at being passed in the chase by a Pawnee on an inferior look- 
ing steed. Upon inquiring of Major North he found that the 
swifter horse was, like his own, government property. The 
Pawnee was much attached to his mount, but he was also fond 
of tobacco, and a few pieces of that commodity, supplemented 
by some other articles, induced him to exchange horses. Will 
named his new charge " Buckskin Joe," and rode him for four 
years. Joe proved a worthy successor to Brigham for speed, 
endurance and intelligence. 

This was the first adventure that Will and the Pawnees had 
pursued together, and they emerged with an increased esteem 
for each other. Not long afterward Will's skill as a buffalo 
hunter raised the admiration of the Indians to enthusiasm. 

Twenty Pawnees that circled around one herd of buffaloes 
killed only twenty-two, and when the next herd came in view 
Will asked Major North to keep the Indians in the background 
while he showed them a thing or two. Buckskin Joe was a 
capital buffalo hunter, and so well did he perform his part that 
Will brought down thirty-six, about one at every shot. 

The Pawnees were delighted. They held it considerable of 
an achievement to kill two or three of the monarchs of the 
plains at a single run, and Will's feat dazzled them. He was 
at once pronounced a great chief, and ever after occupied a 
high niche in their regard. 

Moving up the Republican River, the troops went into camp 
on Black Tail Deer Fork. Scarcely were the tents pitched 
when a band of Indians were seen sweeping towards them at 
full speed, singing, yelling, and waving lances. The camp was 
alive in an instant, but the Pawnees instead of preparing for 
defense, began to sing and yell in unison with the advancing 
braves. " Those are some of our own Indians," said Major 



154 I,AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

North; "they've had a fight and are bringing in the 
scalps. ' ' 

And so it proved. The Pawnees reported a skirmish with 
the Sioux, in which a few of the latter had been killed. 

The next day the regiment set forth upon the trail of the 
Sioux. They traveled rapidly, and plainly gained^ground. 

At every camp the print of a woman's shoe was noted among 
the tracks of moccasined feet. The band e\4dently had a white 
captive in tow, and General Carr, selecting the best horses, 
ordered a forced march, the wagon trains to follow as rapidly as 
possible. Will, with six Pawnees, was to go ahead and locate 
the hostiles and send back word, so that a plan of attack might 
be arranged before the Indian village was reached. 

This village the scouts discovered among the sand-hills at 
Summit Springs, a few miles from the South Platte River, and 
while the Pawnees remained to watch. Will returned to Gen- 
eral Carr with the news. 

There was suppressed excitement all along the line, as offi- 
cers and men prepared for what promised to be a lively scrim- 
mage. The troops moved forward by a circuitous route, and 
reached a hill overlooking the hostile camp without their pres- 
ence being dreamed of by the red men. 

The bugler was ordered to sound the charge, but he was 
trembling with excitement and unable to blow a note. 

" Sound the charge, man ! " ordered General Carr, a second 
time, but the unhappy wight could scarcely hold his horn, 
much less blow it. Quartermaster Hays snatched the instru- 
ment from the flustered man's hands, and as the call rang out 
loud and clear the troops rushed to the attack. 

Taken wholly by surprise, the Indian village went to pieces 
in a twinkling. A few of the Sioux mounted and rode forward 
to repel the assault, but they turned back in half a minute, 
while those that were not mounted scattered for the foothills 
hard by. The cavalry swept through the village like a prairie 
fire, and pursued the flying Indians until darkness put an end 
to the chase. 



T.AST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. I55 

By the next morning the bugler had grown calm enough to 
sound the call ' * Boots and Saddles ! ' ' and General Carr split 
his force into companies, as it was discovered that the Indians 
had divided. Each company was to follow a separate trail. 

Will made one of a band of two hundred, and for two days 
they dogged the red man's footsteps. At sunrise of the third 
day the trail ran into another, showing that the Sioux had re- 
united their forces. This was serious for the little company 
of regulars, but they went ahead, eager for a meeting with the 
savages. 

They had not long to wait. The sun was scarcely an hour 
high when some six hundred Sioux were espied riding in close 
ranks along the bank of the Platte. The Indians discovered 
the troops at the same moment and at once gave battle. The 
Indian is not a coward, though he frequently declines combat if 
the odds are not largely in his favor. 

In this engagement the Sioux outnumbered the soldiers 
three to one, and the latter fell back slowly until they reached 
a ravine. Here they tethered their horses and awaited the 
course of Indian events, which, as usual, came in circular form. 
The Sioux surrounded the regulars, and, finding them com- 
paratively few in number, made a gallant charge. 

But bows and arrows are futile against powder and ball, and 
the warriors reeled back from a scathing fire, leaving a score 
of their number dead. 

Another charge; another repulse, and then a council of war. 
This lasted an hour and evidently evolved a brilliant stratagem, 
for the Sioux divided into two bands, and while one made a 
show of withdrawing, the other circled around and around the 
position where the soldiers lay. 

At a point in this revolving belt of redskins rode a well- 
mounted, handsome warrior, plainly a chief. It had been 
Will's experience that to lay low a chief was half the battle 
when fighting Indians, but this particular mogul kept just out 
of rifle shot. There are, however, as many ways of killing an 
Indian as of killing a cat, so Will crawled on hands and knees 



156 J.AST OF TIIK GRKAT SCOUTS. 

along the ravine to a point which he thought would be within 
range of the chief when next he swung around the circle. 

The calculation was close enough, and when the warrior 
came loping along, slacking his pace to cross the ravine, Will 
rose and fired. 

It was a good four hundred yards, but the wa/rrior pitched 
from his seat, and his pony ran down the ravine into the ranks 
of the soldiers, who were so elated over the success of the shot 
that they voted the animal to Will as a trophy. 

The fallen warrior was Tall Bull, one of the ablest chiefs 
the Sioux ever had. His death so disheartened his braves 
that they at once retreated. 

A union of General Carr's scattered forces followed, and a 
few days later an engagement took place in which three hun- 
dred warriors and a large number of ponies were captured. 
Some white captives were released, and several hundred squaws 
made prisoners. 

Among these latter was the amiable widow of Tall Bull, 
who, far from cherishing animosity against Will as the slayer 
of her spouse, took pride in the fact that he had fallen under 
the fire of so great a warrior as " Pahaska," Long-haired 
Chief, by which name our scout was known among the Indians. 



CHAPTER XX. 



ARMY LIFE AT FORT MCPHERSON — A BUFFALO HUNT, AND 
WHAT CAME OF IT — "WILLIAM F. CODY, JUSTICE OF THE ' 
PEACE" — THE BEACON ON THE HILLTOP — NED BUNT- 
LINE — THE SIOUX LEGEND OF THE CREATION — THE 
GREAT SPIRIT'S MASTERPIECE. 

N the Spring of '70 Will pro- 
ceeded to put into effect the 
■ ^1 Justict - oi'be PeACp|^^"=^^ determination of the previous 
-^' ^^^ J-^Sa^ i^r::^ . year — to establish a home in 

the lovely country of the west- 
erly Platte. After preparing 
quarters wherein his family 
might be comfortable, he ob- 
tained a leave of absence and 
departed for St. Louis to fetch 
his wife and daughter Arta, 
now a beautiful child of three. 

The fame of "Buffalo Bill" 
had extended far beyond the 
plains, and during his month's sojourn in St. Louis he was 
the object of a great deal of attention. When the family pre- 
pared to dt'part for the frontier home my sister-in-law wrote i 
to me to ask if I did not wish to accompany them, I should 
have been 'delighted to accept the invitation, but at that 
especial trjie, there were strong attractions for me in my child- 
hood's home, besides I felt that sister May, who had not 
enjoyed the pleasure of the St. Louis trip, was entitled to the 
Western jaunt. 

So May made a visit to McPherson, and a delightful time 
she had, though she was at first inclined to quarrel with the 

157 




158 LAST OF THR GRKAT SCOUTS. 

severe discipline of army life. Will ranked with the officers, 
who were not suffered to associate with those of inferior grade, 
and as a result, May's social companions were limited to the 
two daughters of General Augur, who were also on a visit to 
the fort. To compensate for the shortage of feminine society, 
however, there were a number of young unmarried officers. 

Every day had its curious or enlivening incident, and May's 
letters to me were filled with accounts of the gaiety of life at 
an army post. After several months I was invited to join her. 
She was enthusiastic over a proposed buffalo hunt, as she 
desired to take part in one before her return to I^eavenworth, 
and wished me to enjoy the sport with her. 

In accepting the invitation I fixed a certain day for my 
arrival at McPherson, but I was delayed in my journey, and 
did not reach the fort until three days after the date set. May 
was much disturbed. She had allowed me three days for 
recuperation from the journey, and I had arrived on the eve of 
the buffalo hunt. Naturally I was too fatigued to rave over 
buffaloes, and I objected to joining the hunt; and I was en- 
couraged in my objecting by the discovery that my brother 
was away on a scouting trip. 

"You don't think of going buffalo hunting without Will, do 
you ? " I asked May. 

"Wh}'," said she, "we can never tell when he will be in 
camp and when away; he's off scouting nearly all the time. 
And we can't get up a buffalo hunt on five minutes' notice; 
we must plan ahead. Our party is all ready to start, and 
there's a reporter here from an Omaha paper to write it up. 
We can't put it off, and you viud go." 

After that, of course, there was nothing more to be said, 
and when the hunting party set forth I made one of it. 

A gay party it was. For men, there were a number of offi- 
cers and the newspaper man. Dr. Frank Powell, now of La 
Crosse ; for women, the wives of two of the officers, the 
daughters of General Augur, INIay and myself. There was 
sunshine, laughter and incessant chatter, and when one is 



LAST OK THE ORKAT SCOUTS. I59 

young aud foud of horseback riding, and a handsome young 
officer rides by one's side, physical fatigue is apt to vanish for 
a time. 

The fort was soon nothing but a break in the sky-line, and 
with a sense almost of awe I looked for the first time upon the 
great American Desert. To our left, as we rode eastward, ran 
the swift and shallow Platte, dotted with green-garbed islands. 
This river Washington Irving called ' ' the most magnificent 
and the most useless of streams." "The islands," he wrote, 
"have the appearance of a labyrinth of groves floating on the 
waters. Their extraordinary position gives an air of youth 
and loveliness to the whole scene. If to this be added the 
undulations of the river, the waving of the verdure, the alter- 
nations of light and shade and the purity of the atmosphere, 
some idea may be formed of the pleasing sensations which the 
traveler experiences on beholding a scene that seems to have 
started fresh from the hands of the Creator. ' ' 

In sharp contrast was the sandy plain over which we rode. 
On this grew the short, stubby buffalo-grass, the dust-colored 
sage-brush and cactus in rank profusion. Over to the right, 
perhaps a mile away, a long range of foothills ran down to the 
horizon, with here and there the great canons through which 
entrance was effected to the upland country, each canon bear- 
ing a historical or legendary name. 

To my eyes the picture was as beautiful as it was novel. As 
far as one could see there was no sign of human habitation. 
It was one vast, untenanted waste, with the touch of infinity 
the ocean wears. 

As we began to get into the foothills one of our equestri- 
ennes narrowly escaped a fall. Her horse dropped a foot into a 
prairie-dog's hole, and came to an abrupt stop. The foot was 
extricated, and I was instructed in the dangers that beset the 
prairie voyager in these blind traps of the plain. 

The trail had been ascending at a gentle grade, and we had 
a slight change of scene — desert hill instead of desert plain. 
The sand-hills rose in tiers before us, and I was informed that 



l6o tAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 

they were formed ages ago by the action of water. What was 
hard, dry ground to our horses' hoofs was once the bottom of 
the sea. 

I was much interested in the geology of my environments; 
much more so than I should have been had I been told that 
those strange, weird hills were the haunt of the red man, who 
was on the war-path and looking constantly for scalps. But 
these unpleasant facts were not touched upon b}' the officers, 
and in blissful ignorance we pursued the tenor of our way. 

We were obliged to ride a great distance before we sighted 
any game, and after twenty miles had been gone over my 
temporarily forgotten weariness began to reassert itself. Dr. 
Powell proposed that the ladies should do the shooting, but 
my interest in the hunt had waned. It had been several years 
since I had ridden a horse, and after the first few miles I was 
not in a suitable frame of mind or body to enjoy the most 
exciting hunt. 

A herd of buffaloes finally came into view and the party was 
instantly alive. One old bull was a little apart from the others 
of the herd and was singled out for the first attack. As we 
drew within range a rifle was given to May, with explicit 
directions as to its handling. As has been previously noted, 
the buffalo has but one vulnerable spot, between the eyes, and 
it is next to impossible for a novice to make a fatal shot. May 
fired, and perhaps her shot might be called a good one, for the 
animal was struck. But it was only wounded, and infuriated, 
and dropping its shaggy head, it rushed toward us. The 
officers fusilladed the mountain of flesh, succeeding only in 
rousing it to added fury. Another rifle was handed to May, 
and Dr. Powell directed its aim, but, terrified by the near 
presence of the charging bull. May discharged it at random. 

Although this is strictly a narrative of facts, exercising the 
privilege of the novelist, we leave our present heroine in her 
perilous position and return for a space to the fort. 

Will returned from his scouting trip shortly after the de- 
parture of the hunting party, and his first query was : 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. l6l 

" Is Nellie here ? " 

" Come and gone," replied his wife, and she informed him 
of the manner in which I had been carried off on the long- 
talked-of buffalo hunt. Whereupon Will gave way to one of 
his rare fits of passion. The scouting trip had been long and 
arduous, he was tired and hungry, but also keenly anxious for 
our safety. He knew what we were ignorant of — that should 
we come clear of the not insignificant dangers attendant 
upon a buffalo hunt, there remained the possibility of capture 
by Indians. To avoid Scylla was to likely fall into Charyb- 
dis. 

" I must go after them at once," said he, and off he went, 
without thought of rest or food. He did take time, however, 
to visit the officers' quarters and pour a vial of wrath upon the 
bewildered head of the inferior who occupied the place of the 
absent commandant. 

"Didn't you know," cried Will, "that my continued ab- 
sence meant danger in the air? Fine idea, to let a party of 
ladies go beyond the fort on such a foolhardy expedition be- 
fore I had assured you it was safe to do so ! Understand, if 
any harm comes to my sisters, I'll hold the government respon- 
sible ! ' ' 

With which tremendous threat he mounted the swiftest 
horse in camp and rode away, before the astonished officer had 
recovered from his surprise. 

He was able to track us over the sand-hills and reached us, 
in accepted hero fashion, in the very nick of time. The reader 
will recall that a maddened bull buffalo was charging on May, 
unchecked by a peppering fire from the guns of the officers. 
All hands were so absorbed by the intense excitement of the 
moment that the sound of approaching hoof-beats was unnoted. 
But I heard, from behind us, the crack of a rifle, and saw the 
buffalo fall dead almost at our feet. 

The ill-humor of our rescuer dampened the ardor of the 
welcome we gave him. The long ride on an empty stomach 
had not smoothed a ripple of his ruffled temper, and we were 



l62 LAST OF THE GREAT vSCOUTvS. 

all properly lectured. We were ordered back to the fort at 
once, and the command was of such a nature that no one 
thought of disputing it. The only question was whether we 
could make the fort before being cut off by Indians. There 
was no time to be wasted even in cutting meat from the tongue 
of the fallen buffalo. Will showed us the shortest cut for 
home, and himself zigzagged ahead of us, on the watch for a 
danger signal. 

For my part, I was so worn out that I would as soon be cap- 
tured by Indians, if they would agree to provide me with a wig- 
wam wherein I flight lie down and rest, but no Indians ap- 
peared. Five miles from the fort was the ranch of a wealthy 
bachelor, and at May's request a halt was here called. It was 
thought that the owner of the ranch might take pity upon my 
deplorable condition and provide some sort of vehicle to convey 
the ladies the remainder of the journey. 

We v.-ere heartily welcomed, and our bachelor host made us 
extremely comfortable in his cosy apartments while he ordered 
supper for the party. Will considered that we were within 
the safety zone, so he continued on to the fort, to obtain his 
postponed rest, and after supper the ladies rode to the fort in 
a carriage. 

The next d.ay's Omaha paper contained an account of the 
hunt from Dr. Powell's graphic pen, and in it May Cody re- 
ceived all the glory of the shot that laid the buffalo low. 
Newspaper men are usually ready to sacrifice exact facts to an 
innate sense of the picturesque. 

At this time the fort was somewhat concerned over numer- 
ous petty crimes among the civilians, and General Emery, now 
chief in authority at the post, requested the county commisr 
sioners to appoint Will a justice of the peace. This was done, 
much to the dismay of the new justice, who, as he phrased it, 
" knew no more of law than a mule knows of singing." But 
he was compelled to bear the blushing honors thrust upon him, 
and his sign was posted in a conspicuous place : 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 163 



\Vnj.iAM F. Cody, 
Justice of the Peace. 



Almost the first thing he was called iu">ou to do in his new 
capacity was to perfonn a wedding- ceremony. Cold sweat 
stood upon his brow as he implored our aid in this desperate 
emergency. The big law book with which he had been equipped 
at his installation was ransacked in vain for the neevled ititor- 
mation. The Bible was examined more diligently. j>erhaps. 
than it had ever before l^een in his lifetime, but the Good 
Book was as unresponsive as the leg-al tome. " Reuieml>er 
your own wedding ceremony." was our advice. " Follow that 
as nearly as possible. " But he slio^ik his head despondently. 
The cool-headed scout and Indian fighter was dismay cvl. and 
the digTiity of the law trembled in the balance. 

To put an edge on the crisis, nearly the entire fort attended 
the wedding. All is well, said we. as we watched the justice 
take his place before the bridal pair with not a signi of trepi- 
dation. At the outset his conducting of the ceremony was ir- 
reproachable, and we were secretly congratulating ourselves 
upon his success, wlien our ears were startlevl by the aunoun. "fo- 
ment : 

" Whom Cod and Buffalo Bill haih joined together let no 
man put asunder" 

So far as I am informovl. no man has attemptetl it. 

Before May returned home Will Kvame the very proud 
father of a son, making three olive branches, a second daugh- 
ter having been named On-a. The first boy of the family w.is 
the object of the undivided interest of the jxx^t for a time, and 
names by the do.'ien were suggested. Major North otTerevl Kit 
Carson as an appropriate name for the son of a great scout and 
buffalo hunter, and this was finally settled on. 

Mv first touch of real anxietv came with .m ouler to Will to 



164 LAST OF THE GRKAT SCOUTS. 

report at headquarters for assignment to duty. The country 
was alive with Indians, the officer in command informed him, 
and this intelligence filled me with dread. My sister-in-law 
had grown accustomed to her husband's excursions into danger 
land, and accepted such sallies as incidents of his position. 
Later, I too learned this stoical philosophy, but at first my 
anxiety was so keen that Will laughed at me. 

"Don't worry," said he, "the Indians won't visit the fort 
to-night. There's no danger of them scalping you." 

"But," said I, "it is for you, not for myself, that I am 
afraid. It is horrible to think of you going out alone among 
those foothills, which swarm with Indians." 

The fort was on the prairie, but the distant foothills stretched 
away interminably, and these furnished favorite lurking-places 
for the redskins. Will drew me to a window and pointed out 
the third tier of hills, some twelve or fifteen miles away. 

"I would advise j'ou," said he, "to go to bed and sleep, 
but if you insist on keeping awake and worrying, I will kindle 
a blaze on top of that hill at midnight. Watch closely. I 
can send up only one flash, for there will be Indian eyes un- 
closed as well as yours. ' ' 

One may imagine with what a beating heart I stared into 
the darkness when the hour of twelve drew on. The night 
was a veil that hid a thousand terrors, but a gauzy veil, to my 
excited fancy, behind which passed a host of shadowy horse- 
men with uptossing lances. How could a man ride alone into 
such a gloomy, terror-haunted domain? The knights of old, 
who sallied forth in search of dismal ogres and noxious 
dragons, were not of stouter heart, and they breasted only 
fancied perils. 

Twelve o'clock! The night had a thousand eyes, but they 
did not pierce the darkness of the foothills. 

Ah! A thin ribbon of light curled upward for an instant, 
then vanished! Will was safe thus far. But there were many 
hours — and the darkest— before the dawn, and I carried to my 
bed the larger share of my forebodings. 



I,AST OF THE (iRRAT SCOUTS. 1 65 

Next day the scout came home to report the exact location 
of the hostile Sioux. The troops, ready for instant action, 
were hurled against them, and the Indians were thoroughly 
thrashed. A large number of chiefs were captured, among 
them "Red Shirt," an interesting redskin, who afterward trav- 
eled with the "Wild West Show." 

Captive chiefs were always esteemed of great interest by the 
ladies of the fort. To me the braves taken in the last raid 
were remarkable mainly for economy of apparel and sulkiness 
of demeanor. 

This same fall the fort was visited by a gentleman intro- 
duced as Colonel Judsou, though the public knows him better 
as "Ned Buntline," the story-writer. He desired to accom- 
pany the scouts on a certain proposed trip, and Major Brown 
informed Will that the ulterior motive of the author was to 
project Buffalo Bill into a novel as hero. 

" Now, I'd look pretty in a novel, wouldn't I?" said Will, 
sarcastically and blushingly. 

"Yes, I think you would," returned the major, eying the 
other's splendid proportions critically. 

Whereupon the scout blushed again and doffed his sombrero 
in acknowledgment of the compliment, for, 

" 'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print; 
A book's a book, although there's nothing in't. " 

A retired naval officer, Ned Buntline wore a black undress 
military suit. His face was bronzed and rugged, determined 
yet kindly ; he walked with a slight limp, and carried a cane. 
He shook Will's hand cordially when they were introduced, 
and expressed great plea.sure in the meeting. This was the 
genesis of a friendship destined to work great changes in 
Buffalo Bill's career. 

During the scouting expedition that followed the party 
chanced upon an enormous bone, which the surgeon pro- 
nounced the femur of a human body. Will understood the 
Indian tongues well enough to be in part possession of their 
traditions, and he related the Sioux legend of the flood. 



1 66 LAST OF THE GREAT SCXT/UTS. 

It was taught by the wise men of this tribe that the earth 
was originally peopled by giants, who were fully three times 
the size of modern men. The)^ were so swift and powerful 
that they could run alongside a buffalo, take the animal 
under one arm, and tear off a leg and eat it as the}^ ran. So 
vainglorious were they because of their own size and strength 
that they denied the existence of a Creator. When it light- 
ened they proclaimed their superiority to the lightning ; when 
it thundered they laughed. 

This displeased the Great Spirit, and to rebuke their arro- 
gance he sent a great rain upon the earth. The valleys filled 
with water and the giants retreated to the hills. The water 
crept up the hills and the giants sought safety on the highest 
mountains. Still the rain continued, the waters rose, and the 
giants, having no other refuge, were drowned. 

The Great Spirit profited by his former mistake. When the 
waters subsided he made a new race of men, but he made them 
smaller and less strong. 

This tradition has been handed down from Sioux father to 
Sioux son since earliest ages. It shows, at least, as the 
legends of all the races do, that the story of the Deluge is his- 
tory common to all the world. 

Another interesting Indian tradition bears evidence of a 
later origin. The Great Spirit, they say, once formed a man 
of clay, and he was placed in the furnace to bake, but he was 
.'Uibjected to the heat too long a time and came out burnt. Of 
him came the negro race. At another trial the Great Spirit 
feared the .second clay man might al.so burn, and he was not 
left in the furnace long enough. Of him came the pale-face 
•man. The Great Spirit was now in a position to do perfect 
work, and the third clay man was left in the furnace neither 
too long nor too short a time ; he emerged a masterpiece, the 
ne plus tcltra of creation — the noble red man. 



CHAPTER XXI. 



ANOTWER MARRIAGE — A LODGE IN THE WILDERNESS — AN 
INDIAN RAID AND THE DEATH OF LITTLE JOHN — FRON- 
TIER BANKING — A MIRAGE— SMOKED OUT — GENERAL 
DUNCAN'S EXPEDITION — DISTINGUISHED VISITORS — A 
VISIT TO SPOTTED TAIL. 

IvTHOUGH the glory of killing 
the buJBFalo on our hunt was 
accredited to sister May, to me 
the episode proved of much 
more moment. In the spring of 
'71 I was married to Mr. Jes- 
ter, the bachelor ranchman at 
v/hose place we had tarried on 
our hurried return to the fort. 
His house had a rough exterior, 
but was substantial and com- 
modious, and before I entered 
it, a bride, it was refitted in a 
style almost luxurious. I re- 
turned to Leavenworth to prepare for the wedding, which took 
place at the home of an old friend, Thomas Plowman, his 
daughter Emma having been my girlhood's chum. 

In our home near McPherson we were five miles "in the 
country." Nature in primitive wildness encompassed us, but 
life' s song never ran into a monotone. The prairie is never dull 
when one watches it from day to day for signs of Indians. Yet 
we were not especially concerned, as we were near enough to 
the fort to reach it on short notice, and besides our home there 
was another house where the ranchmen lived. With these I had 

167 




1 68 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

little to do. My especial factotum was a negro boy, whose 
chief duty was to saddle my horse and bring it to the door, 
attend me upon my rides, and minister to my comfort gener- 
ally. Poor little chap ! He was one of the first of the In- 
dians' victims. 

Early one morning John, as he was called, was sent out 
alone to look after the cattle. During breakfast the clatter 
of hoofs was heard, and Will rode up to inform us that the 
Indians were on the war-path and massed in force just beyond 
our ranch. Back of Will were the troops, and we were ad- 
vised to ride at once to the fort. Hastily packing a few valu- 
ables, we took refuge at McPherson, and remained there until 
the troops returned with the news that all danger was over. 

Upon our return to the ranch we found that the cattle had 
been driven away, and poor little John was picked up dead on 
the skirts of the foothills. The redskins had apparently started 
to scalp him, but had desisted. Perhaps they thought his 
wool would not make a desirable trophj'^, perhaps they were 
frightened away. At all events the poor child's scalp was left 
to him, though the mark of the knife was plain. 

Shortly after this episode some capitalists from the East 
visited my husband. One of them, Mr. Bent, owned a large 
share in the cattle-ranches. He desired to visit this ranch, 
and the whole party planned a hunt at the same time. As 
there were no banking facilities on the frontier, drafts or 
bills of exchange would have been of no use, so the money 
' designed for Western investment had been brought along in 
cash. To carry this on the proposed trip was too great a risk, 
and I was asked banteringly to act as banker. I consented 
readily, but imagine my perturbation when twenty-five thou- 
sand dollars in banknotes were counted out and left in my 
care. I had never had the responsibility of so large a sum of 
money before, and compared to me, the man with the elephant 
on his hands had a tranquil time of it. After considering 
various methods for secreting the money, I decided for the 
hair mattress on my bed. This I ripped open, inserted the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTvS. 1 69 

envelope containing the banknotes, and sewed up the slit. No 
one was knowing to my trust, and I regarded it as safe- 
guarded. 

A few mornings later I ordered my pony and rode away to 
visit my nearest neighbor, a Mrs. Erickson, purposing later to 
ride to the fort and spend the day with Lou, my sister-in-law. 
When I reached Mrs. Erickson' s house that good woman came 
out in great excitement to greet me. 

" You must come right in, Mrs. Jester ! " said she. " The 
foothills are filled with Indians on the war-path." 

She handed me her field-glasses and directed my gaze to the 
trail below our ranch, over which buffaloes, cattle and Indians 
passed down to the Platte. I could plainly see the warriors 
tramping along Indian-file, their head-feathers waving in the 
breeze and their blankets flapping about them as they walked. 
Instantly the thought of the twenty-five thousand dollars en- 
trusted to my care flashed across my mind. 

" Oh, Mrs. Erickson," I exclaimed, " I must return to the 
ranch immediately ! ' ' 

" You must not do so, Mrs. Jester. It's as much as your 
life is worth to attempt it," said she. 

But I thought only of the money, and notwithstanding 
warning and entreaty, mounted my horse and flew back on the 
homeward path, not even daring to look once toward the foot- 
hills. When I reached the house I called to the overseer : 

" The Indians are on the war-path, and the foothills are 
full of them ! Have two or three men ready to escort me to 
the fort by the time I have my valise packed." 

" Wh}', Mrs. Jester," was the reply, " there are no Indians 
in sight. ' ' 

" But there are," said I. "I saw them as plainly as I see 
you, and the Ericksous saw them, too." 

" You have been the victim of a mirage," said the overseer. 
"Look ! there are no Indians now iu view." 

I scanned the foothills closely, but there was no sign of a 
warrior. With my field-glasses I searched the entire rim of 



lyo I.AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

the horizon; it was tranquillity itself. I experienced a great 
relief, nevertheless, my nerves were so shaken that I could not 
remain at home ; so I packed a valise, taking along the pack- 
age of banknotes, and visited another neighbor, a Mrs. Mc- 
Donald, a dear friend of many years' standing, who lived nearer 
the fort. 

This excellent woman was an old resident of the frontier. 
After she had heard my story she related some of her own In- 
dian experiences. When she first settled in her present home 
there was no fort to which she could flee from Indian moles- 
tation, and she v/as often compelled to rely upon her wits to 
extricate her from dangerous situations. The story that 
especially impressed me was the following : 

" One evening v/hen I was alone," said Mrs. McDonald, " I 
became conscious that eyes were peering at me from the dark- 
ness outside my window. Flight was impossible, and my hus- 
band would not likely reach home for an hour or more. What 
should I do ? A happy thought came to me. You know, per- 
haps, that Indians, for some reason, have a strange fear of a 
drunken woman, and will not molest one. I took from a closet 
a bottle filled with a dark-colored liquid, poured out a glassful 
and drank it. In a few minutes I repeated the dose, and then 
seemingly it began to take effect. I would try to walk across 
the room, staggering and nearly falling. I became uproar- 
iously 'happy.' I flung my arms above my head, lurched 
from side to side, sang a maudlin song and laughed loudly and 
foolishly. The stratagem succeeded. One by one the shadowy 
faces at the window disappeared, and by the time my husband 
and the men returned there was not an Indian in the neighbor- 
hood. I became sober immediately. Molasses and water is 
not a very intoxicating beverage." 

Since writing the above the sad news has reached me of Mrs. 
McDonald's death, which occurred at her home in North 
Platte, Nebraska. 

I plucked up courage to return to the ranch that evening, 
and shortly afterward the hunting party rode up. When I re- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 171 

lated the story of my fright Mr. Bent complimented me upon 
what he was pleased to call my courag^e. 

"You are your brother's own sister," said he. "We'll 
make you banker again." 

"Thank you, but I do not beheve you will," said I. "I 
have had all the experience I wish for in the banking business 
in this Indian country." 

Upon another occasion Indians were approaching the fort 
from the farther side, but as we were not regarded as in dan- 
ger, no warning was sent to us. The troops sallied out after 
the redskins, and the cunning warriors described a circle- 
To hide their trail they set fire to the prairie and the hills about 
us were soon ablaze. The flames spread swiftly and the smoke 
rolled upon us in suffocating volume. We retreated to the 
river, and managed to exist by dashing water upon our faces. 
"Here we were found by soldiers sent from the fort to warn set- 
tlers of their peril, and at their suggestion we returned to the 
ranch, saddled hor.ses, and rode through the dense smoke five 
miles to the fort. It was the most unpleasant ride of my 
life. 

In the preceding chapter mention was made of the finding of 
a remarkable bone. It became famous, and in the summer of 
'71, Professor Marsh of Yale College brought out a party of 
students to search for fossils. They found a number, but 
were not rewarded by anything the most credulous could tor- 
ture into a human relic. 

This summer also witnessed an Indian campaign somewhat 
out of the common in several of its details. More than one 
volume would be required to record all the adventures Scout 
Cody had with the Children of the Plains, most of which had 
so many points in common that it is necessary to touch upon 
only those containing incidents out of the ordinary. 

An expedition under command of General Duncan was fitted 
out for the Republican River country. Duncan was a jolly 
officer and a born fighter. His brother officers had a story that 
once on a time he had been shot in the head by a cannon ball, 



172 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

and that while he was uot hurt a particle, the ball glanced off 
and killed one of the toughest mules in the army. 

Perhaps it was because the Pawnees spoke so little English, 
and spoke that little so badly, that General Duncan insisted 
upon their repeating the English call, which would be some- 
thing like this : "Post Number One. Nine o'clock. Alls 
well." The Pawnee effort to obey was so ludicrous and pro- 
vocative of such profanity (which they could express passing 
well) that the order was countermanded. 

One afternoon Major North and Will rode ahead of the com- 
mand to select a site for the night's camp. They ran into a 
band of some fifty Indians, and were obliged to take the back 
track as fast as their horses could travel. Will's whip was 
shot from his hand and a hole put through his hat. As they 
sighted the advance guard of the command Major North rode 
around in a circle — a signal to the Pawnees that hostiles were 
near. Instantly the Pawnees broke ranks and dashed pell-mell 
to the relief of their white chief. The hostiles now took a 
turn at retreating and kept it up for several miles. 

The troops took up the trail on the following day and a stern 
chase set in. In passing through a deserted camp the troops 
found an aged squaw, who had been left to die. The soldiers 
built a lodge for her, and she was provided with sufficient 
rations to last her until she reached the Indian heaven, the 
happy hunting grounds. She was in no haste, however, to 
get to her destination, and on their return the troops took her 
to the fort with them. Later she was sent to the Spotted Tail 
Agency. 

In September of '71, General Sheridan and a party of friends 
arrived at the post for a grand hunt. Between him and Will 
existed a warm friendship, which continued to the close of the 
general's life. Great preparations were made for the hunt. 
General Emery, conmiander of the fort, sent a troop of cavalry 
to meet the distinguished visitors at the station and escort them 
to the fort. Besides General vSheridan, there were in the party 
Leonard and Lawrence Jerome, Carroll Livingstone, James 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 173 

Gordon Beunett, J. G. Heckscher, General Fitzhugh, Schuyler 
Crosby, Dr. Asch and other well-known men. When they 
reached the post they found the regiment drawn up on dress 
parade ; the band struck up a martial air, the cavalry were re- 
viewed by General Sheridan, and the formalities of the occasion 
were regarded as over. 

It was Sheridan's request that Will should act as guide and 
scout for the hunting party. One hundred troopers under 
Major Brown were detailed as escort, and the commissary de- 
partment fairly bulged. Several ambulances were also taken 
along, for the comfort of those that might weary of the saddle. 

Game was abundant and rare sport was had. Buffalo, elk 
and deer were everywhere, and to those of the party who were 
new to Western life the prairie-dog villages were objects of 
much interest. These villages are often of great extent. 
They are made up of countless burrows, and so honeycombed 
is the country infested by the little animals that travel after 
nightfall is perilous for horses. The dirt is heaped around the 
entrance to the burrows a foot high, and here the prairie dogs, 
who are sociability itself, sit on their hind legs and gossip with 
one another. Owls and rattlesnakes share the underground 
homes with the rightful owners, and all get along together 
famously. 

When the hunting party returned to McPherson its mem- 
bers voted Will a veritable Nimrod — a mighty hunter, and he 
was abundantly thanked for his masterly guidance of the ex- 
pedition . 

That winter a still more distinguished party visited the post. 
This was nothing less than the Grand Duke Alexis and his 
friends. As many of my readers will recall, the nobleman's 
visit aroused much enthusiasm in this country. The East had 
wined and dined him to satiety, but wining and dining are 
common to all nations, and the Grand Duke desired to see the 
wild life of America — the Indian in his tepee and the prairie 
monarch in his domain, as well as the hardy frontiersman, who 
feared neither savage warrior nor savage beast. 



174 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

The Grand Duke had hunted big game in Eastern lands, 
and he was a capital shot. General Sheridan engineered this 
expedition also, and, as on the previous occasion, he relied 
upon Will to make it a success. The latter received word to 
select a good camp on Red Willow Creek, where game was 
plentiful, and to make all needed arrangements for the comfort 
and entertainment of the noble party. A special feature sug- 
gested by Sheridan for the amusement and instruction of the 
Continental guests was an Indian war dance and Indian 
buffalo hunt. To procure this entertainment it was necessary 
to visit Spotted Tail, Chief of the Sioux, and persuade him to 
bring over a hundred warriors. At this time there was peace 
between the Sioux and the government, and the dance idea 
was feasible ; nevertheless, a visit to the Sioux camp was not 
without its dangers. Spotted Tail himself was seemingly sin- 
cere in a desire to observe the terms of the ostensible peace 
between his people and the authorities, but many of the other 
Indians would rather have had the scalp of the Long-haired 
Chief than a century of peace. 

Will so timed his trip as to reach the Indian camp at dusk, 
and hitching his horse in the timber, he wrapped his blanket 
closely about him, so that in the gathering darkness he might 
easily pass for a warrior. Thus invested he entered the 
village, and proceeded to the lodge of Spotted Tail. 

The conference with the distinguished redskin was made 
smooth sailing by Agent Todd Randall, who happened to be 
on hand, and who acted as interpreter. The old chief felt 
honored by the invitation extended to him, and readily prom- 
ised that in ' ' ten sleeps' ' from that night he, with a hundred 
warriors, would be present at the white man's camp, which 
was to be pitched at the point where the government trail 
crossed Red Willow Creek. 

As Spotted Tail did not repose a great amount of confidence 
in his high-spirited young men, he kept Will in his own lodge 
through the night. In the morning the chief assembled the 
camp, and presenting his guest, asked if his warriors knew him, 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 1 75 

"It is Pa-lias-ka, the Long-haired Chief ! " they answered. 

Whereupon Spotted Tail informed them that he had eaten 
bread with the Long-haired Chief, thus establishing a bond of 
friendship, against violating which the warriors were properly 
warned. 

After that Will was entirely at his ease, although there 
were many sullen faces about him. They had long yearned 
for his scalp, and it was slightly irritating to find it so near and 
yet so far. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

THK HUNT OF THE GRAND DUKK ALKXIS — A RIDE TO BE 
REMEAIBERED — JOURNEY TO THE EAST — A CALL FOR A 
DRAMATIC HERO — SOCIAL OBLIGATIONS — WILL PLAYS LU- 
CULLUS, AND IS STAGGERED BY THE COST THEREOF — A 
VISIT TO PENNSYLVANIA RELATIVES. 




SPECIAL train brought the 
Grand Duke Alexis and party 
to North Platte on January 12, 
1872. Will was presented to 
the illustrious visitor by Gen- 
eral Sheridan and was much in- 
terested in him. He was also 
pleased to note that General 
Custer made one of the party. 
Will had made all the ar- 
rangements and had everything 
complete when the train pulled 
in. As soon as the Grand 
Duke and party had breakfasted they filed out to get their 
horses or to find seats in the ambulances. All who were 
mounted were arranged according to rank. Will had .sent one 
of his guides ahead, while he was to remain behind to see that 
nothing was left undone. Just as they were to start the con- 
ductor of the Grand Duke's train came up to Will and .said 
that Mr. Thompson had not received a horse. ' ' What Thomp- 
son ? " asked Will. " Why, Mr. Frank Thompson, who has 
charge of the Grand Duke's train." Will looked over the list 
of names sent him by General Sheridan of those who would 
require saddle horses but failed to find that of Mr. Thompson. 
176 



;^-;S!,v^t 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 177 

However, he did not wish to have Mr. Thompson or anyone 
else left out. He had following him, as he always did, his 
celebrated war horse, " Buckskin Joe." This horse was not 
a very prepossessing "insect." He was buckskin in color 
and rather a sorry-looking animal, but he was known all over 
the frontier as the greatest long-distance and best buffalo horse 
living. Will had never allowed anyone but himself to ride 
this horse, but as he had no other there at the time, he got a 
saddle and bridle, had it put on old Buckskin Joe and told Mr. 
Thompson he could ride him until he got where he could get 
him another. This horse looked so different from the beauti- 
ful animals the rest of the party were supplied with that Mr. 
Thompson thought it rather discourteous to mount him in such 
fashion. However, he got on and Will told him to follow up, 
as he wanted to go ahead to where the general was. As Mr. 
Thompson rode past the wagons and ambulances he noticed 
the teamsters pointing at him, and thinking the men were 
guying him rode up to one of them and said : " Am I not rid- 
ing this horse all right ? " Mr. Thompson felt some personal 
pride in his horsemanship, as he was a Pennsylvania fox 
hunter. 

The driver replied : " Yes, sir, you ride all right." 
"Well, then," said Thompson, "it must be this horse 
you are guying." 

The teamster replied : 

" Guying that horse ? Not in a thousand years ! " 
" Well, then, why am I such a conspicuous object? " 
" Why, sir, are you not the king? " 
" The king ? Why did you take me for the king? " 
" Because you are riding that horse. I guess you don't 
know what horse you are riding, do you ? Nobody gets to 
ride that horse but Buffalo Bill. So when we all saw you rid- 
ing him we supposed that of course you were the king, for that 
horse, sir, is Buckskin Joe." 

Thompson had heard General Sheridan telling about Buck- 
skin Joe on the way out, and how Buffalo Bill had once run 



178 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

him eighty miles when the Indians were after him. Thomp- 
son told Will afterwards that he grew about four feet when he 
found out that he was riding that most celebrated horse of the 
plains. He at once galloped ahead to overtake Will and thank 
him most heartily for allowing him the honor of such a mount. 
Will told him that he was going to let the Grand Duke kill his 
first buffalo on Buckskin Joe. "Well," replied Thompson, 
" I want to ask one favor of you. Let me also kill a buffalo 
on this horse. " Will replied that nothing would afford him 
greater pleasure. Buckskin Joe was covered with glory on 
this memorable hunt, as both the Grand Duke of Russia and 
Mr. Frank Thompson, now president of the Pennsylvania 
Railroad, killed their first buffalo mounted on his back, and 
my brother ascribes to old Joe the acquisition of Mr. Frank 
Thompson's name to his list of life friendships. This hunt 
was an unqualified success, nothing occurring to mar one day 
of it. 

Spotted Tail was true to his promise. He and his hundred 
braves were on hand, shining in the full glory of war paint 
and feathers, and the war dance they performed was of extra- 
ordinary interest to the Grand Duke and his friends. The out- 
landish contortions and grimaces of the Indians, their leaps and 
crouchings, their fiendish yells and whoops, made up a bar- 
baric jangle of picture and sound not soon to be forgotten. 
To the European visitors the scene was picturesque rather than 
ghastly, but it was not a pleasing spectacle to the old Indian 
fighters looking on. There were too many suggestions of blood- 
shed and massacre in the past, and of bloodshed and massacre 
yet to come. 

The Indian buffalo hunt followed the Terpsichorean revelry, 
and all could enjoy the skill and strength displayed by the red 
huntsmen. One warrior, Two-L,ance by name, performed a 
feat that no other living Indian could do ; he sent an arrow 
entirely through the body of a bull running at full speed. 

General Sheridan desired that the Grand Duke should carry 
away with him a knowledge of every phase of life on the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.- 1 79 

frontier, and when the visitors were ready to drive to the rail- 
road station, Will was requested to illustrate, for their edifica- 
tion, the manner in which a stage-coach and six was driven 
over the Rocky Mountains. 

Will was delighted at the idea ; so was Alexis at the outset, 
as he had little idea of what was in store for him. The Grand 
Duke and the general were seated in a closed carriage drawn 
by six horses, and were cautioned to fasten their hats securely 
on their heads, and to hang on to the carriage ; then Will 
climbed to the driver's seat. 

" Just imagine," said he to his passengers, "that fifty In- 
dians are after us. ' ' And off went the horses with a jump that 
nearly spilled the occupants of the coach into the road. 

The three miles to the station were covered in just ten 
minutes, and the Grand Duke had the ride of his life. The 
carriage tossed like a ship in a gale, and no crew ever clung 
to a life line with more desperate grip than did Will's passen- 
gers to their seats. Had the fifty Indians of the driver's fancy 
been whooping behind, he would not have plied the whip more 
industriously, or been deafer to the groans and ejaculations of 
his fares. When the carriage finally drew up with another 
teeth-shaking jerk, and Will, sombrero in hand, opened the 
coach door to inquire of His Highness how he had enjoyed the 
ride, the Grand Duke replied, with suspicious enthusiasm : 

' ' I would not have missed it for a large sum of money ; but 
rather than repeat it I would return to Russia via Alaska, 
swim Behring Strait, and finish my journey on one of your 
government mules. ' ' 

This ride completed a trip which the noble party pronounced 
satisfactory in every detail. The Grand Duke invited Will 
into his private car, where he received the thanks of the 
company for his zeal and skill as pilot of a hunting party. He 
was also invited by Alexis to visit him at his palace should he 
ever make a journey to Russia, and was, moreover, the recip- 
ient of a number of valuable souvenirs. 

At that time Will had very little thought of crossing the 



I So I,AST OF TIIK GREAT SCOUTS. 

seas, but he did decide to visit the East, whither he had more 
thau ouce jourueyed in fancy. The Indians were comparatively 
quiet and he readily obtained a leave of absence. 

The first stopping- place was Chicago, where he was enter- 
tained by General Sheridan ; thence he went to New York, 
to be kindly received by James Gordon Bennett, Leonard 
and Lawrence Jerome, J. G. Heckscher and others, who, it 
will be recalled, were members of the hunting party of the 
preceding year. Ned Buntline also rendered his sojourn in 
the metropolis pleasant in many ways. The author had car- 
ried out his intention of writing a story of Western life with 
Scout Cody for the hero and the result, having been drama- 
tized, was doing a flourishing business at one of the great 
city's theatres. Will made one of a party that attended a per- 
formance of the play one evening, and it was shortl)^ whis- 
pered about the house that " Buffalo Bill " himself was iu the 
audience. It is customary to call for the author of a play, 
and no doubt the author of this play had been summoned be- 
fore the footlights in due course, but on this night the audi- 
ence demanded the hero. To respond to the call was an ordeal 
for which Will was unprepared ; but there was no getting out 
of it, and he faced a storm of applause. The manager of the 
performance, enterprising like all of his profession, offered 
Will five hundred dollars a week to remain in New York and 
play the part of "Buffalo Bill," but the offer was declined 
with thanks. 

During his stay in the city Will was made the guest of honor 
at sundry luncheons and dinners given by his wealthy enter- 
tainers. He found considerable trouble in keeping his appoint- 
ments at first, but soon caught on to the to him unreasonable 
hours at which New Yorkers dined, supped and breakfasted. 
The sense of his social obligations laj^ so heavily on his mind 
that he resolved to balance accounts wnth a dinner at which he 
should be the host. An inventory of cash on hand discovered 
the sum of fifty dollars that might be devoted to playing Lu- 
cuUus. Surely that would more thau pay for all that ten 



LAST OF THE GRKAT SCOUTS. l8l 

or a dozen men could eat at one meal. " However," he said 
to himself, "I don't care if it takes the whole fifty. It's all in 
a lifetime, anyway." 

In all confidence he hied him to Delraonico's, at which 
famous restaurant he had incurred a large share of his social 
obligations. He ordered the finest dinner that coujd be pre- 
pared for a party of twelve, and set as date the night preced- 
ing his departure for the West. The guests were invited with 
genuine Western hospitalit3\ His friends had been kind to 
him, and he desired to show them that a man of the West 
could not only appreciate such things, but return them. 

The dinner was a thorough success. Not an invited guest 
was absent. The conversation sparkled. Quip and repartee 
shot across the " festive board," and all went merry as a din- 
ner bell. The host was satisfied, and proud withal. The next 
morning he approached Delmonico's cashier with an air of 
reckless prodigality. 

" My bill, please," said he, and when he got it, he looked 
hard at it for several minutes. It dawned on him gradually 
that his fifty dollars would about pay for one plate. As he con- 
fided to us afterward, that little slip of paper frightened him 
more than could the prospect of a combat single-handed with 
a whole tribe of Sioux Indians. 

Unsophisticated Will ! There was, as he discovered, a won- 
derful difference between a dinner at Delmonico's and a dinner 
on the plains. For the one, the four corners of the earth are 
drawn upon to provide the bill of fare ; for the other, all one 
needs is an ounce of lead and a charge of powder, a bundle of 
fagots and a match. 

But it would never do to permit the restaurant cashier to 
suspect that the royal entertainer of the night before was as- 
tonished at his bill, so he requested that the account be for- 
warded to his hotel, and sought the open air, where he might 
breathe more freely. 

There was but one man in New York to whom he felt he 
could turn in his dilemma, and that was Ned Buntline. One 



1 82 LAST OF TIIK GREAT SCOUTS. 

who could invent plots for stories, and extricate his characters 
from all sorts of embarrassing situations, should be able to in- 
vent a method of escape from so comparatively simple a perplex- 
ity as a tavern bill. Will's confidence in the wits of his friend 
was not unfounded. His first great financial panic was safely 
weathered, but how it was done I do not know to this day. 

One of Will's main reasons for visiting the East was to look 
up our only living relatives on mother's side — Colonel Henry 
R. Guss and family, of Westchester, Pennsylvania. Mother's 
sister, who had married this gentleman, was not living, and we 
had never met him or any of his family. Ned Buntline accom- 
panied Will on his trip to Westchester. 

Some of my readers may have passed through the experience 
of waiting in a strange drawing-room for the coming of rela- 
tives one has never seen, and of whose personality one has but 
the vaguest idea. And there is the uncertainty of the recep- 
tion. Will it be frank and hearty, or reserved and doubtful ? 
During the few minutes succeeding the giving of his and Bunt- 
line' s cards to the servant, Will rather wished that the elegant 
reception-room might be metamorphosed into the Western 
prairie. But presently the entrance to the parlor was bright- 
ened by the loveliest girl he had ever looked upon, and follow- 
ing her walked a courtly, elegant gentleman. These were 
Cousin L,izzie and Uncle Henry. There was no doubt of the 
quality of the welcome ; it was most cordial, and Will enjoyed 
a delightful visit with his relatives. For his cousin he con- 
ceived an instant affection. The love he had held for his 
mother — the purest and strongest of his affections — became 
the heritage of this beautiful girl, and thus enshrined will the 
memory of her be with him always. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

STOLEN HORSES — WILL IS ELECTED TO THE NEBRASKA LEG- 
ISLATURE — A THEATRICAL VENTURE — REMARKABLE PER- 
^ FORMANCE OF " THE SCOUT OF THE PLAINS " — WILD BILL 

! GROWS RE.STLESS — WILL ORGANIZES A THEATRICAL COM- 

< PANY OF HIS OWN — DEATH OF KIT CARSON CODY. 




PON Will's return to McPher- 
son he was at once obliged to 
take the field to look for In- 
dians that had raided the station 
during his absence and carried 
off a considerable number of 
horses. Captain Meinhold and 
Lieutenant Lawson command- 
ed the company dispatched to 
recover the stolen property. 
Will acted as guide, and had 
as an assistant T. B. Omohuu- 
dro, better known by his fron- 
tier name of " Texas Jack." 
Will was not long in finding Indian tracks, and accompanied 
by six men, he went forward to locate the redskin camp ex- 
actly. They had proceeded but a short distance when they 
sighted a small party of Indians, with horses grazing. There 
were just thirteen Indians — an unlucky number — and Will 
feared that they might discover the scouting party should it 
attempt to return to the main command. He had but to ques- 
tion his companions to find them ready to follow wheresoever 
he might lead, and they moved cautiously toward the Indian 
camp. 

At the proper moment the seven rushed upon the unsuspect- 
ing warriors, who sprang for their horses and gave battle. But 

183 



184 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

the rattle of the rifles brought Captain Meinhold to the scene, 
and when the Indians saw the reinforcements coming up they 
turned and fled. Six of their number were left dead on the 
plain, and nearly all of the stolen horses were recovered. One 
soldier was killed, and this was one of the few occasions when 
Will received a wound. 

And now once more was the versatile plainsman called upon 
to enact a new role. Returning from a long scout in the fall 
of '72, he found that his friends had made him a candidate for 
the Nebraska Legislature from the twenty-sixth district. He 
had never thought seriously of politics, and had a well-defined 
doubt of his fitness as a law-maker. He made no campaign, 
but was elected by a flattering majority. He was now privi- 
leged to prefix the title " Honorable " to his name, and later 
this was supplanted by " Colonel" — a title won in the Ne. 
braska National Guard, and which he claims is much better 
suited to his attainments. 

Will, unlike his father, had no taste for politics or for politi- 
cal honors. I recall one answer — so characteristic of the man 
— to some friends who were urging him to enter the political 
arena. " No," said he, " politics are by far too deep for me. 
I think I can hold my own in an)'^ fair and no foul fight ; but 
politics seem to me all foul and no fair. I thank you, my 
friends, but I must decline to set out on this trail, which I 
know has more cactus burrs to the square inch than any I ever 
followed on the plains. ' ' 

Meantime Ned Buntline had been nurturing an ambitious 
project. He had been much impres.sed by the fine appearance 
made by Will in the New York theater, and was confident that 
a fortune awaited the scout if he would consent to enter the 
theatrical profession. He conceived the idea of writing a 
drama entitled, " The Scout of the Plains," in which Will was 
to assume the title role and .shine as a star of the first magni- 
tude. The bait he dangled was that the play should be made 
up entirely of frontier scenes, which would not only entertain 
the public, but instruct it. 



I.AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 185 

The bait was nibbled at and finally swallowed, but there was 
a proviso that Wild Bill and Texas Jack must first be won 
over to act as " pards " in the enterprise. He telegraphed 
his two friends that he needed their aid in an important busi- 
ness matter and went to Chicago to meet them. He was well 
assured that if he had given them an inkling of the nature of 
the " business matter " neither would put in an appearance ; 
but he relied on Ned Buntline's persuasive powers, which were 
well developed. 

There had never been a time when Wild Bill and Texas 
Jack declined to follow Will's lead, and on a certain morning 
the trio presented themselves at the Palmer House in Chicago 
for an interview with Colonel Judson. 

The author could scarcely restrain his delight. All three of 
the scouts were men of fine physique and dashing appearance. 
It was very possible that they had one or two things to learn 
about acting, but their inexperience would be more than bal- 
anced by their reputation and personal appearance, and the 
knowledge that they were enacting on the stage mock scenes 
of what to them had oft been stern reality. 

"Don't shoot, pards!" began Will, when the conference 
opened. "I guess, Judson," he continued, after vainly try- 
ing to find a diplomatic explanation, " you'd better tell them 
what we want." 

Buntline opened with enthusiasm, but he did not kindle 
Wild Bill and Texas Jack, who looked as if they might at any 
moment grab their sombreros and stampede for the frontier. 
Will turned the scale. 

" We're bound to make a fortune at it," said he. " Try it 
for awhile, anyway." 

The upshot of a long discussion was that the scouts gave a 
reluctant consent to a much-dreaded venture. Will made one 
stipulation. 

" If the Indians get on the rampage," said he, " we must be 
allowed leave of absence to go back and settle them." 

" All right, boys," said Buntline, " that shall be put in the 



l86 tAST OF THK GRKAT SCOUTS. 

contract. And if 5-011' re called back into the army to fight 
redskins, I'll go with you." 

This reply established the author firmly in the esteem of the 
scouts. The -plsLy was written in four hours (most playwrights 
allow themselves at least a week) and the actor-scouts received 
their "parts." Buntliue engaged a company to support the 
stellar trio, and the play was widely advertised. 

When the critical " first night" arrived none of the scouts 
knew a line of his part, but each had acquired all the varieties 
of stage fright known to the profession. Buntline had hinted 
to them the possibility of something of the sort, but they had 
not realized to what a condition of abject dismay a man may 
be reduced by the sight of a few hundred inoffensive people in 
front of a theater curtain. It would have done them no good 
to have told them (as is the truth) that many experienced 
actors have touches of stage fright, as well as the unfortunate 
novice. All three declared that they vv'ould rather face a band 
of war-painted Indians, or undertake to check a herd of stam- 
peding buffaloes, than face the peaceful-looking audience that 
was waiting to criticise their Thespian efforts. 

lyike almost all amateurs, the)'' insisted on peering through 
the peep-holes in the curtain, which augmented their nervous- 
ness, and if the persuasive Colonel Judson had not been at 
their elbows, reminding them that he, also, was to take part 
in the plaj', it was more than likely they would have slipped 
quietly out at the stage door and bought railway passage to 
the West. 

Presently the curtain rolled up, and the audience applauded 
encouragingly as three quaking six-footers, clad in buckskin, 
made their first bow before the footlights. 

I have said that Will did not know a line of his part, nor 
did he when the time to make his opening speech arrived. It 
had been faithfully memorized, but oozed from his mind like 
the courage from Bob Acres's finger-tip.s, "Evidently," 
thought Buntline, who was on the stage with him, " he needs 
time to recover." So he asked carelessly : 



LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 187 

" What have you been about lately, Bill ? " 
• This gave "The Scout of the Plains" an inspiration. In 
glancing over the audience, he had recognized in one of the 
boxes a wealthy gentleman named Milligan, whom he had 
once guided on a big hunt near McPherson. The expedition 
had been written up by the Chicago papers, and the incidents 
of it were well known. 

" I've been out on a hunt with Milligan," replied Will, and 
the house came down. Milligan was quite popular, but had 
been the butt of innumerable jokes because of his alleged scare 
over the Indians. The applause and laughter that greeted the 
sally stocked the scout with confidence, but confidence is of no 
use if one has forgotten his part. It became manifest to the 
playwright-actor that he would have to prepare another play 
in place of the one he had expected to perform, and that he 
must prepare it on the spot. 

"Tell us about it, Bill," said he, and the prompter groaned. 

One of the pleasures of frontier life consists in telling stories 
around the camp-fire. A man who ranks as a good frontiers- 
man is pretty sure to be a good raconteur. Will was at ease 
immediately, and proceeded to relate the story of Milligan's 
hunt in his own words. That it was amusing was attested by 
the frequent rounds of applause. The prompter, with a com- 
mendable desire to get things running smoothly, tried again 
and again to give Will his cue, but even cues had been for- 
gotten. 

The dialogue of that performance must have been delightfully 
absurd. Neither Texas Jack nor Wild Bill was able to utter 
a line of his part during the entire evening. In the Indian 
scenes, however, they scored a great success ; here was work 
that did not need to be painfully memorized, and the mock red 
men were slain at an astonishing rate. 

Financially the play proved all that its projectors could ask 
for. Artistically — well, the critics had a great deal of fun with 
the hapless dramatist. The professionals in the company had 
played their parts acceptably, and, oddly enough, the scouts 



1 88 LAST OF THE GRRAT SCOUTS. 

were let down gently in the criticisms ; but the critics had no 
means of knowing that the stars of the piece had provided their 
own dialogue, and poor Ned Buntline was plastered with 
ridicule. It had got out that the play was written in four 
hours, and in mentioning this fact, one paper wondered, with 
delicate sarcasm, what the dramatist had been doing all that 
time. Buntline had played the part of Gale Durg, who met 
death in the second act, and a second paper, commenting on 
this, suggested that it would have been a happy consummation 
had the death occurred before the play was written. A third 
critic pronounced it a drama that might be begun in the middle 
and played both ways, or played backwards, quite as well as 
the way in which it had been written. 

However, nothing succeeds like success. A number of man- 
agers offered to take hold of the company, and others asked for 
entrance to the enterprise as partners. Ned Buntline took his 
medicine from the critics with a smiling face, for ' ' let him laugh 
who wins." 

The scouts soon got over their stage fright, in the course of 
time were able to remember their parts, and did fully their 
share toward making the play as much of a success artistically 
as it was financially. From Chicago the company went to St. 
Louis, thence to Cincinnati and other large cities, and every- 
where drew large and appreciative houses. 

When the season closed, in Boston, and Will had made his 
preparations to return to Nebraska, an English gentleman 
named Medley presented himself with a request that the scout 
act as guide on a big hunt and camping trip through Western 
territory. The pay offered was liberal — a thousand dollars a 
month and expenses — and Will accepted the offer. He spent 
that summer in his old occupation, and the ensuing winter con- 
tinued his tour as a star of the drama. Wild Bill and Texas 
Jack consented again to ' ' support ' ' him, but the second 
season proved too much for the patience of the former, and he 
attempted to break through the contract he had signed for the 
season. The manager of course refused to release him, but 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 189 

Wild Bill conceived the iiotiou that under certain circumstances 
the company would be glad to get rid of him. 

That night he put his plan into execution by discharging his 
blank cartridges so near the legs of the dead Indians on the 
stage that the startled "supers" came to life with more real- 
istic yells than had accompanied their deaths. This was a bit 
of "business " not called for in the play-book, and while the 
audience was vastly entertained, the management withheld its 
approv'al. 

Will was delegated to expostulate with the reckless Indian 
slayer ; but Wild Bill remarked calmly that he " hadn't hurt 
the fellows any," and he continued to indulge in his inno- 
cent pastime. 

Severe measures were next resorted to. He was informed 
that he must stop shooting the Indians after they were dead, 
or leave the company. This was what Wild Bill had hoped 
for, and when the curtain went up on the next performance he 
was to be seen in the audience, enjoying the play for the first 
time since he had been mixed up with it. 

Will sympathized with his former " support," but he had a 
duty to perform, and faithfully endeavored to persuade the 
recreant actor to return to the company. Persuasion went for 
nothing, so the contract was annulled, and Will Bill returned 
to his beloved plains. 

The next season Will removed his family to Rochester and 
organized a theatrical company of his own. There was too 
much artificiality about stage life to suit one that had been ac- 
customed to stern reality, and he sought to do away with this 
as much as possible by introducing into his own company a 
band of real Indians. The season of '75-' 76 opened brilliantly; 
the company played to crowded houses and Will made a large 
financial success. 

One night in April, when the season was nearing its close, 
a telegram was handed to him just as he was about to step 
upon the stage. It was from his wife, and summoned him to 
Rochester, to the bedside of his only son, Kit Carson Cody. 



190 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

He consulted with his manager, and it was arranged that after 
the first act he should be excused, that he might catch the train. 

That first act was a miserable experience, though the audi- 
ence did not suspect that the actor's heart was almost stopped 
by fear and anxiety. He caught his train, and the manager, 
John Burke, an actor of much experience, played out the part. 

It was, too, a miserable ride to Rochester, filled up with the 
gloomiest of forebodings, heightened by memories of every in- 
cident in the precious little life now in danger. 

Kit was a handsome child, with striking features and curly 
hair. His mother always dressed him in the finest clothes, 
and tempted by these combined attractions, gypsies had the 
previous summer carried him away. But Kit was the son of 
a scout and his young eyes were sharp. He marked the trail 
followed by his captors, and at the first opportunity gave them 
the slip and got safely home, exclaiming as he toddled into 
the sobbing family circle, " I tumed back adain, mama ; don't 
cry." Despite his anxiety. Will smiled at the recollection of 
the season when his little son had been a regular visitor at the 
theater. The little fellow knew that the most important fea- 
ture of a dramatic performance, from a management's point of 
view, is a large audience. He watched the seats fill in keen 
anxiety, and the moment the curtain rose and his father ap- 
peared on the stage, he would make a trumpet of his little 
hands and shout from his box : ' ' Good house, papa ! " The 
audience learned to expect and enjoy this bit of by-play be- 
tween father and son. His duty performed. Kit settled him- 
self in his seat, and gave himself up to undisturbed enjoyment 
of the play. 

When Will reached Rochester he found his son still alive, 
though beyond the reach of medical aid. He was burning up 
with fever, but still conscious, and the little arms were joyfully 
lifted to clasp around his father's neck. He lingered during 
the next day and into the night, but the end came, and Will 
faced a great sorrow of his life. He had built fond hopes 
for his son, and in a breath they had been swept away. His 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. I9I 

boyhood musings over the prophecy of the fortune-teller had 
taken a turn when his own boy was born. It might be Kit's 
destiny to become President of the United States ; it was not 
his own. Now, hope and fear had vanished together, the 
fabric of the dream had dissolved, and left ' ' not a rack behind. ' ' 
lyittle Kit was laid to rest in Mount Hope Cemetery, April 
24, 1876. He is not dead, but sleeping ; not lost, but gone be- 
fore. He has joined the innumerable company of the white- 
souled throng in the regions of the blest. He has gone to aid 
my mother in her mission unfulfilled— that of turning heaven- 
ward the eyes of those that loved them so dearly hereon earth. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



THE SIOUX UPRISING OF ' 76 — SITTING BULL — THE CAUSB OF 
THE WAR — CUSTER'S CAMPAIGN — THE FIFTH CAVALRY'S 
BRUSH WITH CHEYENNES — A PRAIRIE DUEL — THE SIOUX 
WAR ON THE MIMIC STAGE — " SCOUT'S REST RANCH" 
— AN OASIS IN THE DESERT, 

ERY glad was the sad-hearted 
father that the theatrical sea- 
son was so nearly over. The 
mummeries of stage life were 
more distasteful to him than 
ever when he returned to his 
company with his crushing 
grief fresh upon him. He played 
nightly to crowded houses, but 
it was plain that his heart was 
not in his work. A letter 
from Colonel Mills, informing 
him that his services were 
needed in the army, came as a 
welcome relief. He canceled his few remaining dates, and 
disbanded his company with a substantial remuneration. 

This was the spring of the Centennial year. It has also 
been called the "Custer year," for during that summer the 
gallant general and his heroic Three Hundred fell in their un- 
equal contest with Sitting Bull and his warriors. 

Sitting Bull was one of the ablest chiefs and fighters the 
Sioux nation ever produced. He got his name from the fact 
that once when he had shot a buffalo he sprang astride of it to 
skin it, and the wounded bull rose on its haunches with the 
Indian on its back. He combined native Indian cunning with 
192 




LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. I93 

the strategy and finesse needed to make a great general, and 
his ability as a leader was conceded alike by red and white 
man. A dangerous man at best, the wrongs his people had 
suffered roused all his Indian cruelty, vindictiveness, hatred 
and thirst for revenge. 

The Sioux war of '76 had its origin, like most of its prede- 
cessors and successors, in an act of injustice on the part of the 
United States government and a violation of treaty rights. 

In 1868 a treaty had been made with the Sioux, by which the 
Black Hills country was reserved for their exclusive use, no 
settling by white men to be allowed. In 1874, gold was dis- 
covered, and the usual gold fever was followed by a rush of 
whites into the Indian country. The Sioux naturally resented 
the intrusion, and instead of attempting to placate them, to 
the end that the treaty might be revised, the government sent 
General Custer into the Black Hills with instructions to in- 
timidate the Indians into submission. But Custer was too 
wise, too familiar with Indian nature, to adhere to the letter of 
his instructions. Under cover of a flag of truce, a council was 
arranged. At this gathering coffee, sugar and bacon were 
distributed among the Indians, and along with those commodi- 
ties Custer handed around some advice. This was to the ef- 
fect that it would be to the advantage of the Sioux if they per- 
mitted the miners to occupy the gold country. The coffee, 
sugar and bacon were accepted thankfully by Lo, but no 
nation, tribe or individual since the world began has ever wel- 
comed advice. It was thrown away on Lo. He received it 
with such an air of indifference and in such a stoical silence 
that General Custer had no hope his mission had succeeded. 

In 1875 General Crook was sent into the Hills to make a 
farcical demonstration of the government's desire to maintain 
good faith, but no one was deceived, the Indians least of all. 
In August Custer City was laid out, and in two weeks its pop- 
ulation numbered six hundred. General Crook drove out the 
inhabitants, and as he marched triumphantly out of one end of 
the village the people marched in again at the other. 



$94 ^'AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

The result of this continued bad faith was inevitable ; every- 
where the Sioux rose in arms. Strange as it might seem to 
one that has not followed the government's remarkable Indian 
policy, it had dispensed firearms to the Indians with a gener- 
ous hand. The government's Indian policy, condensed, was 
to stock the red man with rifles and cartridges and then pro- 
vide him with a first-class reason for using them against the 
whites. During May, June and July of that year the Sioux 
had received 1,120 Remington and Winchester rifles and 13,000 
rounds of patent ammunition. During that j'ear they received 
several thousand stands of arms and more than a million rounds 
of ammunition, and for three years before that they had been 
regularly supplied with weapons. The Sioux uprising of '76 
was expensive for the government. One does not have to go 
far to find the explanation. 

Will expected to join General Crook, but on reaching Chi- 
cago he found that General Carr was still in command of the 
Fifth Cavalry and had sent a request that Will return to his 
old position. Carr was at Cheyenne ; thither Will hastened at 
once. He was met at the station by Captain Charles King, the 
well-known author and now serving as brigadier-general at 
Manila, adjutant of the regiment. As the pair rode into camp 
the cry went up : " Here comes Buffalo Bill !" Three ring- 
ing cheers expressed the delight of the troopers over his return 
to his old command, and Will was equally delighted to meet 
his quondam companions. He was appointed guide and chief 
of vScouts, and the regiment proceeded to lyaramie. From there 
they were ordered into the Black Hills country, and General 
Merritt replaced General Carr. 

The incidents of Custer's fight and fall are so well 
known that it is not necessary to repeat them here. It was a 
better fight than the famous charge of the lyight Brigade at 
Balaklava, for not one of the three hundred came forth from the 
"jaws of death." As at Balaklava, "some one had blun- 
dered," not once, but many times, and Custer's command dis- 
charged the entire debt with their life-blood. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 1 95 

When the news of the tragedy reached the main army prep- 
arations were made to move against the Indians in force. The 
Fifth Cavalry was instructed to cut off, if possible, eight hun- 
dred Cheyenne warriors on their way to join the Sioux, and 
General Merritt, with five hundred men, hastened to Hat, or 
War-Bonnet Creek, purposing to reach the trail before the In- 
dians could do so. The creek was reached on the 17th of 
July, and at daylight the following morning Will rode forth to 
ascertain whether the Cheyennes had cros.sed the trail. They 
had not, but that very day the scout discerned the warriors 
coming up from the south. 

General Merritt ordered his men to mount their horses, but 
to remain out of sight, while he, with his adjutant, Charles 
King, accompanied Will on a tour of observation. The Chey- 
ennes came directly toward the troops, and presently fifteen or 
twenty of them dashed off to the west along the trail the army 
had followed the night before. Through his glass General 
Merritt remarked two soldiers on the trail, doubtless couriers 
with dispatches, and these the Indians manifestly designed to 
cut off. Will suggested that it would be well to wait until the 
warriors were on the point of charging the couriers, when, if 
the general were willing, he would take a party of picked men 
and cut off the hostile delegation from the main body, which 
was just coming over the divide. 

The general acquiesced and Will, galloping back to camp, 
returned with fifteen men. The couriers were some four 
hundred yards away, and their Indian pursuers two hundred 
behind them. General Merritt gave the word to charge, and 
Will and his men skurried toward the redskins. 

In the skirmish that ensued three Indians were killed. The 
rest started for the main band of warriors, who had halted to 
watch the fight, but they were so hotl}^ pursued by the soldiers 
that they turned, at a point half a mile distant from General 
Merritt, and another skirmish took place. 

Here something a little out of the usual occurred — a challenge 
to a duel. A warrior, whose decorations and war-bonnet pro- 



196 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

claimed him a chief, rode out in front of his men, and called 
out in his own tongue, which Will could understand : 

" I know you, Pa-has-ka ! Come and fight me, if you want 
to fight !" 

Will rode forward fifty yards, and the warrior advanced a 
like distance. The two rifles spoke and the Indian's horse fell; 
but at the same moment Will's horse stumbled into a gopher 
hole and threw its rider. Both duelists were instantly on their 
feet, confronting each other across a space of not more than 
twenty paces. They fired again simultaneously, and though 
Will was unhurt, the Indian fell dead. 

The duel over, some two hundred warriors dashed up to re- 
cover the chieftain's body and to avenge his death. It was now 
General Merritt's turn to move. He dispatched a company of 
soldiers to Will's aid, and then ordered the whole regiment to 
the charge. The Indians made a stubborn resistance, but as 
they found this useless, began a retreat toward Red Cloud 
Agency, whence they had come. The retreat continued for 
thirty-five miles, the troops following into the agency. The 
fighting blood of the Fifth was at fever heat, and they were 
ready to encounter the thousands of warriors at the agency, 
should they exhibit a desire for battle. But they manifested 
no such desire. 

Will learned that the name of the chief he had killed that 
morning was ' ' Yellow Hand. ' ' He was the son of ' ' Cut 
Nose," a leading spirit among the Cheyennes. This old chief- 
tain offered Will four mules if he would return the war-bonnet 
and accoutrements worn by the young warrior and captured in 
the fight, but Will was unable to grant the request, much as he 
pitied Cut Nose in his grief. 

The Fifth Cavalry on the following day started on its march 
to join General Crook's command in the Big Horn Mountains. 
The two commands united forces on the 3d of August and 
marched to the confluence of the Powder River with the Yellow- 
stone. Here General Miles met them, to report that no Indians 
had crossed the stream. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 



197 



No other fight occurred ; but Will made himself useful in his 
capacity of scout. There were many long, hard rides, carrying 
dispatches that no one else would volunteer to bear. When he 
was assured that the fighting was all over, he took passage, in 
September, on the steamer Far West, and sailed down the 
Missouri. 

People in the Eastern States were wonderfully interested in 
the stirring events on the frontier, and Will conceived the idea 
of putting the incidents of the Sioux war upon the stage. Upon 
his return to Rochester he had a play written for his purpose, 
organized a company, and opened his season. Previously he 
had paid a flying visit to Red Cloud Agency, and induced a 
number of Sioux Indians to take part in his drama. 

The red men had no such painful experience as Wild Bill 
and Texas Jack. All they were expected to do in the way of 
acting was what came natural to them. Their part was to intro- 
duce a bit of " local color," to give a war dance, take part in a 
skirmish, or exhibit themselves in some typical Indian 
fashion. 

At the close of this season Will bought a large tract of land 
near North Platte and started a cattle ranch. He already 
owned one some distance to the northward, in partnership with 
Major North, the leader of the Pawnee scouts. Their friend- 
ship had strengthened since their first meeting, ten years be- 
fore. 

In this new ranch Will takes great pride. He has added to 
its area until it now covers seven thousand acres, and he has 
developed its resources to the utmost. Twenty-five hundred 
acres are devoted to alfalfa and twenty-five hundred sown to 
corn. One of the features of interest to visitors is a wooded 
park, containing a number of deer and young buffaloes. Near 
the park is a beautiful lake. In the centre of the broad 
tract of land stands the picturesque building known as ' ' Scout's 
Rest Ranch," which, seen from the foothills, has the appear- 
ance of an old castle. 

The ranch is one of the most beautiful spots that one can 



198 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

imagine, and is, besides, an object lesson in the value of scien- 
tific investigation and experiment, joined with persistence and 
perseverance. When Colonel Cody bought the property he 
was an enthusiastic believer in the possibilities of Nebraska de- 
velopment. His brother-in-law, Mr. Goodman, was put in 
charge of the place. 

The whole Platte Valley formed part of the district once 
miscalled the Great American Desert. It was an idea com- 
monly accepted, but, as the sequel proved, erroneous, that lack 
of moisture was the cause of lack of vegetation. An irrigating 
ditch was constructed on the ranch, trees were planted and it 
was hoped that with such an abundance of moisture they would 
spring up like weeds. Vain hope! There was " water, water 
everywhere," but not a tree would grow. 

Will visited his old Kansas home, and the sight of tall and 
stately trees filled him with a desire to transport some of this 
beauty to his Nebraska ranch. 

" I'd give five hundred dollars," said he, " for every tree I 
had like that in Nebraska ! " 

Impressed by the proprietor's enthusiasm for arboreal de- 
velopment, Mr. Goodman began investigation and experiment. 
It took him but a short time to acquire a knowledge of the de- 
ficiencies of the soil, and this done, the bigger half of the prob- 
lem was solved. 

Indian legend tells us that this part of our country was once 
an inland sea. There is authority for the statement that to-day 
it is a vast subterranean reservoir, and the conditions warrant 
the assertion. The soil in all the region has a depth only of 
from one to three feet, while underlying the shallow arable 
deposit is one immense bedrock, varying in thickness, the 
average being from three to six feet. Everywhere water may 
be tapped by digging through the thin soil and boring through 
the rock formation. The country gained its reputation as a 
desert, not from lack of moisture, but from lack of soil. In 
the pockets of the foothills, where a greater depth of soil had 
accumulated from the washings of the slopes above, beautiful 



LAST OF THE GREAT vSCOUTS. 1 99 

little groves of trees might be found, and the islands of the 
Platte River were heavily wooded. Everywhere else was a 
treeless waste. 

The philosophy of the transformation from sea to plain is 
not fully understood. The most tenable theory yet advanced 
is that the bedrock is an alkaline deposit, left by the waters 
in a gradually widening and deepening margin. On this the 
prairie wind sifted its accumulation of dust, and the rain 
washed down its quota from the bank above. In the slow pro- 
cess of countless j'ears the rock formation extended over the 
whole sea ; the alluvial deposit deepened ; seeds lodged in it, 
and the buffalo-grass and sage-bush began to grow, their 
yearly decay adding to the ever-thickening layer of soil. 

Having learned the secret of the earth, Mr. Goodman de- 
voted himself to the study of the trees. He investigated those 
varieties having lateral roots, to determine which would flour- 
ish best in a shallow soil. He experimented, he failed, and 
he tried again. All things come round to him who will but 
work. Many experiments succeeded the first, and many fail- 
ures followed in their train. But at last, like Archimedes, he 
could cry ' ' Eureka ! I have found it ! " In a very short 
time he had the ranch charmingly laid out with rows of cotton- 
woods, box-elder, and other members of the tree family. The 
ranch looked like an oasis in the desert, and neighbors in- 
quired into the secret of the magic that had worked so marvel- 
ous a transformation. The streets of North Platte are now 
beautiful with trees and adjoining farms grow many more. It 
is " Scout's Rest Ranch," ho-^^ever, that is pointed out with 
pride to travelers on the Union Pacific Railroad. 

Mindful of his resolve to one day have a residence in North 
Platte, Will purchased the site on which his first residence 
was erected. His family had sojourned in Rochester for sev- 
eral years, and when they returned to the West the new home 
was built according to the wishes, and under the supervision 
of the wife and mother. To the dwelling was given the name 
" Welcome Wigwam." 



CHAPTER XXV 



I.ITERARY WORK — COLONEL CODY'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY — GUESTS 
AT NORTH PLATTE — A DEER HUNT — WHY THE FAWN WENT 
FREE — THE RANCH ON THE DISMAL RIVER — NINE DAYS' 
CAMP IN THE FOOTHILLS — AN ESTIMATE OF COLONEL 
CODY'S SUCCESS AS AN ACTOR. 

T was during this period of his 
life that my brother's first lit- 
erary venture was made. As 
the reader has seen, his school 
days were few in number, and 
as he told Mr. Majors, in 
signing his first contract with 
him, he could use a rifle bet- 

1?%^\ ^^^ than a pen. A life of con- 

\]f^ A/ 4/^ ^^^"^ ^^^^°° °" ^^^ frontier 
t '■•\ ^w'fbAu^^. does not leave a man much time 
V "/ '' ' ^^^^^ ^^^ acquiring an education ; so 
^ ^^^^ ^7^^ ^^ ^^ °° great wonder that the 
first sketch Will wrote for pub- 
lication was destitute of punctuation and short of capitals in 
many places. His attention was directed to these shortcom- 
ings, but Western life had cultivated a disdain for petty 
things. 

"Life is too short," said he, " to make big letters when 
small ones will do ; and as for punctuation, if my readers 
don't know enough to take their breath without those little 
marks, they'll have to lose it, that's all." 

But in spite of his jesting it was characteristic of him that 
i,hen he undertook anything he wished to do it well. He now 
200 




LAST OF THE GE.EAT SCOUTS. 30I 

had leisure for study, and he used it to such good advantage 
that he was soon able to send to the publishers a clean manu- 
script, grammatical, and well spelled, capitalized and punctuated. 
The publishers appreciated the improvement, though they 
had sought after his work in its cruder state and paid good 
prices for it. 

Our author would never consent to write anything except 
actual scenes from border life. As a sop to the Cerberus of 
sensationalism, he did occasionally, condescend to heighten 
his effects by exaggeration. In sending one story to the pub- 
lisher he wrote : 

" I am sorry to have to lie so outrageously in this yarn. My 
hero has killed more Indians on one war-trail than I have 
killed in all my life. But I understand this is what is expected 
in border tales. If you think the revolver and bowie-knife 
are used too freely, you may cut out a fatal shot or stab where- 
ever you deem it wise.' ' 

Even this story, which one accustomed to border life con- 
fessed to be exaggerated, fell far short of the sensational and 
blood-curdling tales usually written, and was published ex- 
actly as the author wrote it. 

During the summer of '77 I paid a visit to our relatives in 
Westchester, Pennsylvania. With me was my only child, a 
little daughter. We were now alone in the world. My hus- 
band had lost all his wealth before his death, and I was obliged 
to rely upon my brother for a support. To meet a widespread 
demand. Will this summer wrote his autobiography. It was 
published at Hartford, Connecticut, and I, anxious to do some- 
thing for myself, took the general agency of the book for the 
state of Ohio, spending a part of the summer there in push- 
ing its sale. But I soon tired of a business life, and turning 
over the agency to more competent hands, went from Cleve- 
land to visit Will at his new home, just completed, at North 
Platte, where there were a mimber of other guests at the time. 
Besides his cattle ranch in the vicinity of North Platte, Will 
had another ranch on the Dismal River, sixty-five miles north, 
touching the Dakota line. One day he remarked to us : 



202 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

"I'm sorry to leave j'ou to your own resources for a few 
days, but I must take a run up to my ranch on Dismal River." 

Not since our early Kansas trip bad I had an experience in 
camping out, and in those days I was almost too young to ap- 
preciate it ; but it had left me with a keen desire to try it 
again. 

" L,etusall go with you, Will," I exclaimed. " We can camp 
out on the road." 

Our friends added their approval, and Will fell in with the 
suggestion at once. 

"There's no reason why you can't go if you wish to," said he. 
Will owned numerous conveyances and was able to pro- 
vide ways and means to carry us all comfortably. Lou and the 
two little girls, Arta and Orra, rode in an open phaeton. There 
were covered carriages, surreys and a variety of turnouts to 
transport the invited guests. Several prominent citizens of 
North Platte were invited to join the party, and when our ar- 
rangements were completed we numbered twenty-five. 

Will took a caterer along, and made ample provisions for the 
inner man and woman. He knew, from long experience, that 
a camping trip without an abundance of food is rather a dreary 
affair. 

All of us except Will were out for pleasure solely, and we 
found time to enjoy ourselves during the first day's ride of 
twenty-five miles. As we looked around at the new and wild 
scenes while the tents were pitched for the night, Will led the 
ladies of the party to a tree, saying : 

" You are the first white women whose feet have trod this 
region. Carve your names here and celebrate the event." 

After a good night's rest and a bounteous breakfast we set 
out in high spirits, and were soon far out in the foothills. 

One who has never .seen these peculiar formations can have 
but little idea of them. On every side, as far as the eye can 
see, undulations of earth stretch away like the waves of the 
ocean, and on them no vegetation flourishes save buffalo-grassr 
sage-brush, and the cactus, blooming but thorny. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 203 

The second day I rode horseback, in company with Will 
and one or two others of the party, over a constant succession 
of hill and vale ; we mounted an elevation and descended its 
farther side, only to be confronted by another hill. The horse- 
back party was somewhat in advance of those in carriages. 

From the top of one hill Will scanned the country with his 
field-glass and remarked that some deer were headed our way, 
and that we should have fresh venison for dinner. He directed 
us to ride down into the valley and tarry there, so that we 
might not startle the timid animals, while he continued part 
way up the hill and halted in position to get a good shot at the 
first one that came over the knoll. A fawn presently bounded 
into view, and Will brought his rifle to his shoulder ; but much 
to our surprise, instead of firing, dropped the weapon's butt on 
the ground. Another fawn passed him before he fired, and as 
the little creature fell we rode up to Will's side and began chaff- 
ing him unmercifully, one gentleman remarking : 

" It is difficult to believe we are in the presence of the crack 
shot of America, when we see him allow two deer to pass by be- 
fore he brings one down. ' ' 

But to the laughing and chaffing Will answered not a word, 
and recalling the childish story I had heard of his buck fever, 
I wondered if, at this late date, it were possible for him to have 
another attack of that kind. The deer was handed over to the 
commissary department and we rode on. 

" Will, what was the matter with you just now? " I asked 
him, privately. "Why didn't you shoot that first deer ; did 
you have another attack like you had v/hen you were a little 
boy?" 

He rode along in silence for a few moments and then turned 
to me with the query : 

" Did you ever look into a deer's eyes ? " And as I replied 
that I had not, he continued : 

"Everyone has his little weakness, mine is a deer's eye. I 
don't want you to say anything about it to your friends, for 
they would laugh more than ever, but the fact is I have never 



204 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

yet been able to shoot a deer if it looked me in the eye. With 
a buffalo, or a bear, or an Indian, it is different. But a deer 
has the eye of a trusting child, soft, gentle and confiding. No 
one but a brute could shoot a deer if he caught that look. The 
first that came over the knoll looked straight at me ; I let it go 
by, and did not look at the second until I was sure it had 
passed me." 

He seemed somewhat ashamed of his soft-heartedness ; yet 
to me it was but one of many little incidents that revealed a 
side of his nature the rough life of the frontier had not cor- 
rupted. 

Will expected to reach the Dismal River on the third day, 
and at noon of it he remarked that he had better ride ahead 
and give notice of our coming, for the man who looked after 
the ranch had his wife with him, and she would likely be dis- 
mayed at the thought of preparing supper for so large a crowd 
on a minute's notice. 

Sister Julia's son, Will Goodman, a lad of fifteen, was of our 
party, and he offered to be the courier. 

' 'Are you sure j-ou know the way ? ' ' asked his uncle. 

"Oh, yes," was the confident response; "you know I 
have been over the road with you before, and I know just how 
to go." 

" Well, tell me how you would go." 

Young Will described the trail so accurately that his uncle 
concluded it would be safe for him to undertake the trip, and 
the lad rode ahead, happy and important. 

It was late in the afternoon when we reached the ranch , and 
the greeting of the overseer was : 

" Well, well ; what's all this? " 

" Didn't you know we were coming? " asked Will, quickly. 
" Hasn't Will Goodman been here? " The ranchman shook 
his head. 

" Haven't seen him, sir," he replied, " since he was here 
with 5'ou before." 

" Well, he'll be along," said Will, quietly, but I detected a 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 20$ 

ring of anxiety in his voice. ' ' Go into the house and make 
yourselves comfortable," he added, "It will be some time 
before a meal can be prepared for such a supper party." We 
entered the house, but he remained outside, and mounting the 
stile that served as a gate examined the nearer hills with his 
glass. There was no sign of Will, Jr. , so the ranchman was 
directed to dispatch five or six men in as many directions ta 
search for the boy, and as they hastened away on their mission 
Will remained on the stile, running his fingers every few min- 
utes through the hair over his forehead — a characteristic ac- 
tion with him when worried. Thinking I might reassure him, 
I came out and chided him gently for what I was pleased to 
regard as his needless anxiety. It was impossible for Willie 
to lose his way very long, I explained, without knowing any- 
thing about my subject. "See how far you can look over 
these hills. It is not as if he were in the woods," said I. 

Will looked at me steadily and pityingly for a moment. 
" Go back in the house, Nell," said he, with a touch of impa- 
tience, "you don't know what you are talking about." 

That was true enough, but when I returned obediently to 
the house I repeated my opinion that worry over the absent 
boy was needless, for it would be difficult, I declared, for one 
to lose himself where the range of vision was so extensive as 
it was from the top of one of these foothills. 

"But suppose," said one of the party, "that you were in 
the valley behind one of the foothills — what then ? ' ' 

This led to an animated discussion as to the danger of get- 
ting lost in this long range localit)^ and in the midst of it Will 
walked in, his equanimity quite restored, 

"It's all right," said he, "I can see the youngster coming 
along." 

We flocked to the stile, and discovered a moving speck in 
the distance. Looked at through the field-glasses, it proved 
to be the belated courier. Then we appealed to Will to settle 
the question that had been under discussion. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," he answered impressively, "if 



206 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

one of you were lost among these foothills, and a whole regi- 
ment started out in search of you, the chances are ten to one 
that you would starve to death before you could be found." 

To find the way with ease and locate the trail unerringly 
over an endless and monotonous succession of hills identical in 
appearance is an ability the Indian possesses, but few are the 
white men that can imitate the aborigine. I learned afterwards 
that it was accounted one of Will's great accomplishments as 
a scout that he was perfectly at home among the frozen waves 
of the prairie ocean. 

When the laggard arrived and was pressed for particulars 
he declared he had traveled eight or ten miles when he found 
that he was off the trail. "I thought I was lost," said he, 
"but after considering the matter I decided that I had one 
chance ; that was to go back over my own tracks. The marks 
of my horse's hoofs led me out on the main trail, and your 
tracks were so fresh that I had no further trouble. ' ' 

"Pretty good," said Will, patting the boy's shoulder. 
"Pretty good. You have some of the Cody blood in you, 
that's plain." 

The next day was passed in looking over the ranch, and the 
day following we visited, at Will's solicitation, a spot that he had 
named "The Garden of the Gods." Our thoughtful host had 
sent ranchmen ahead to prepare the place for our reception, 
and we were as surprised and delighted as he could desire. A 
patch on the river's brink was filled with tall and stately trees 
and luxuriant shrubs laden with fruits and flowers, while birds 
of every hue nested and sang about us. It was a miniature 
paradise in the midst of a desert of sage-brush and buffalo- 
grass. The interspaces of the grove were covered with rich 
green grass, and in one of these velvet-carpeted nooks the 
workmen, under Will's direction, had put up an arbor with 
rustic seats and table. Herein we ate our luncheon, and every 
sense was pleasured. 

As it was not likely that the ladies of the party would ever 
s^^ the place again, so remote was it from civilization, belong- 



I^AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 20/ 

ing to the as yet uninhabited part of the Western plains, we 
decided to explore it in the hope of finding something that 
would serve as a souvenir. We had not gone far when we 
found ourselves out of Eden and in the desert that surrounded 
it, but it was the desert that held our great discovery. On an 
isolated elevation stood a lone, tall tree, in the topmost 
branches of which reposed what seemed to be a large package. 
As soon as our imaginations got fairly to work the package 
became the hidden treasure of some prairie bandit, and while 
two of the party returned for our masculine forces the rest of us 
kept guard over the cachet in the tree-top. Will came up with 
the others, and when we pointed out to him the supposed chest 
of gold he smiled. 

' ' I am sorry," said he, "to dissipate the hopes you ladies have 
built in yonder tree, but the truth is you are gazing not at any- 
thing of intrinsic value, but on the open sepulchre of some 
departed brave, and your treasure-trove turns out to be only 
the hidden skeleton, which, with woman's penetration, you 
have discovered even in the remote closet of Nature's home." 
As we retraced our steps, somewhat crestfallen, we listened 
to the tale of another of the red man's superstitions. 

When some great chief, who particularly distinguishes him- 
self on the war-path, loses his life on the battle-field without 
losing his scalp, he is regarded as especially favored by the 
Great Spirit. A more exalted sepulchre than mother earth is 
deemed fitting for such a warrior. Accordingly he is wrapped 
in his blanket-shroud, and, in his war paint and feathers and 
with his weapons by his side, he is placed in the top of the 
highest tree in the neighborhood, the spot thenceforth being 
sacred against intrusion for a certain number of moons. At 
the end of that period messengers are dispatched to ascertain 
if the remains have been disturbed. If they have not the de- 
parted is esteemed a spirit chief, who in the happy hunting 
grounds intercedes for and leads on to sure victory the warriors 
who trusted to his leadership in the material v.'orld. 

We bade a reluctant adieu to the idyllic retreat, and threw 



208 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

it many a backward glance as we took our way over the desert 
that stretched between us and the ranch. Here another night 
was passed, and then we set out for home. The brief sojourn 
" near to Nature's heart " had been a delightful experience, 
holding for many of us the charm of novelty, and for all 
recreation and pleasant comradeship. The episode was written 
up most graphically at the time under the caption, "A Nine 
Days' Camp in the Foothills. ' ' 

With the opening of the theatrical season Will returned to 
the stage, and his histrionic career continued for five years 
longer. As an actor he achieved a certain kind of success. He 
played in every large city of the United States, always to 
crowded houses, and was everywhere received with enthusi- 
asm. There was no doubt of his financial success, whatever 
criticisms might be passed on the artistic side of his perform- 
ance. It was his personality and reputation that interested 
his audiences. They did not expect the art of Sir Henry 
Irving, and you may be sure that they did not receive it. 

Will never enjoyed this part of his career ; he endured it 
simply because it was the means to an end. He had not for- 
gotten his boyish dream — his resolve that he would one day 
present to the world an exhibition that would give a realistic 
picture of life in the far West, depicting its dangers and priva- 
tions as well as its picturesque phases. His first theatrical 
season had shown him how favorably such an exhibition would 
be received, and his long-cherished ambition began to take 
shape. He knew that an enormous amount of money would 
be needed, and to acquire such a sum he lived for many years 
behind the footlights. 

I was present in a Leavenworth theater during one of his 
last performances — one in which he played the part of a loving 
swain to a would-be charming lassie. When the curtain fell 
on the last act I went behind the vScenes, in company with a 
party of friends, and congratulated the star upon his excellent 
acting. 

"Oh, Nellie," he groaned, "don't say anything about it. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 209 

If heaven will forgive me this foolishness, I promise to quit it 
forever when this season is over. ' ' 

That was the way he felt about the stage, so far as his part 
in it was concerned. He was a fish out of water. The feeble 
pretensions to a stern reality, and the mock dangers exploited 
could not but fail to seem trivial to one who had lived the very 
scenes depicted. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



FIRST VISIT TO THE VALLEY OF THE BIG HORN — AN INDIAN 
DESCRIPTION OF EITHITY TUGALA, THE IJIS OF THE RED 
MAN — COLONEL CODY'S ACCOUNT OF THE BEAUTIES OF THE 
BIG HORN BASIN' — THE HAUNTED LAKE — THE COMMANDS 
OF THE GREAT .SPIRIT FROM AN INDIAN POINT OF VIEW. 

% g '^^^^^^ ^ brother was again bereaved in 

AA ^-^^^Pr^ ^^^°' ^^ ^^'^ ^'^^^* °^ ^^^ Death 

ff Wl ^0^^^^^^^^ Angel, when his little daugh- 

f 1 ^^^^^^^^ c ter Orra was called home. Her 

\^<^^^^M^^^ death forged another link in 

the gradually lengthening 
chain that unites earth and 
heaven. One by one the com- 
pany on the other side grows 
larger ; one by one the treas- 
ures increase above, to draw 
upward the eyes set on earthly 
success. At her own request, 
Orra's body was interred in 
Rochester, in beautiful Mount Hope Cemetery, by the side of 
little Kit Carson, Here brother and sister peacefully await 
the sounding of the last trump. 

But joy follows upon sadness, and the summer before Will 
spent his last season on the stage was a memorable one for 
him. It marked the birth of another daughter, who was chris- 
tened Irma. This daughter is the very apple of her father's 
eye, to her he gives the affection that is her due, and round her 
clings the halo of the tender memories of the other two that have 

210 




LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 211 

departed this life. Her charm of person and grace of disposi- 
tion are such as merit all the wealth of love poured out upon her. 

This year, 1882, was also the one in which Will paid his first 
visit to the valley of the Big Horn. He had often traversed 
the outskirts of that region and heard incredible tales from 
Indians and trappers of its wonders and beauties, but he had 
yet to explore it himself. In his early experience as Pony 
Express rider, California Joe had related to him the first story 
he had heard of the enchanted basin, and in 1875, when he was 
in charge of a large body of Arapahoe Indians that had been 
permitted to leave their reservation for a big hunt, he obtained 
more details. 

The agent warned Will that some of the Indians were dis- 
satisfied and might attempt to escape, but to all appearances — 
though he watched them sharply — they were entirely content. 
Game was plentiful, the weather fine, and nothing seemed 
omitted from the red man's happiness. 

One night about twelve o'clock Will was aroused by an 
Indian guide, who informed him that a party of some two 
hundred Arapahoes had started away some two hours before, 
and were on a journey northward. The red man does not 
wear his heart upon his sleeve for government daws to peck at. 
One knows what he proposes to do after he has done it. The 
red man is conspicuously among the things that are not always 
what they seem. 

Pursuit was immediately set on foot, and the entire body of 
truant wariors were brought back without bloodshed. One of 
them — a young warrior — came to Will's tent to beg for tobacco. 
The Indian — as all know that have made his acquaintance — 
has no difficulty in reconciling begging with his native dignity. 
To work may be beneath him, to beg is a different matter, and 
there is frequently a delightful hauteur about his mendicancy. 
In this respect he is not unlike some of his white brothers. 
Will gave the young chief the desired tobacco and then ques- 
tioned him closely concerning the attempted escape. 

"Surely," said he, " you cannot find a more beautiful spot 



212 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

than this. The streams are full of fish, the grazing is good, 
the game is plentiful, and the weather is fine. What more 
could you desire ? ' ' 

The Indian drew himself up. His face grew eager, and his 
eyes were full of longing as he answered, by the interpre- 
ter : 

"The land to the north and west is the land of plenty. 
There the buffalo grows larger, and his coat is darker. There 
the bu-yu (antelope) comes in droves, while here there are but 
few. There the whole region is covered with the short, curly 
grass our ponies like. There grow the wild plums that are good 
for my people in summer and winter. There are the springsof 
the Great Medicine Man, Tel-ya-ki-y. To bathe in them 
gives new life ; to drink them cures every bodily ill. 

' ' In the mountains beyond the river of the blue water there 
is gold and silver, the metals that the white man loves. There 
lives the eagle, whose feathers the Indian must have to make 
his war-bonnet. There, too, the sun shines always. 

" It is the I j is (heaven) of the red man. My heart cries 
for it. The hearts of my people are not happy when away from 
the Eithity Tugala." 

The Indian folded his arms across his breast and his eyes 
looked yearningly toward the country whose delights he had 
so vividly pictured ; then he turned and walked sorrowfully 
away. The white man's government shut him out from the 
possession of his earthly paradise. Will learned upon further 
inquiry that Eithity Tugala was the Indian name of the Big 
Horn Basin. 

In the summer of '82 Will's party of exploration left the 
cars at Cheyenne and struck out from this point with horses 
and pack-mules. Will's eyes becoming inflamed, he was 
obliged to bandage them and turn the guidance of the party 
over to a man known as " Reddy." For days he traveled in 
a blinded state, and though his eyes slowly bettered, he did 
not remove the bandage until the Big Horn Basin was 
reached. They had paused for the midday siesta, and Reddy 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 213 

inquired whether it would not be safe to uncover the afflicted 
eyes, adding that he thought Will "would enjoy looking 
around a bit." 

OS. came the bandage, and I shall quote Will's own words 
to describe the scene that met his delighted gaze : 

' ' To my right stretched a towering range of snow-capped 
mountains, broken here and there into minarets, obelisks and 
spires. Between me and this range of lofty peaks, a long ir- 
regular line of stately cotton- woods told me a stream wound 
its way beneath. The rainbow-tinted carpet under me was 
formed of innumerable brilliant-hued wild flowers ; it spread 
about me in every direction, and sloped gracefully to the 
stream. Game of every kind played on the turf, and bright- 
hued birds flitted over it. It was a scene no mortal can satis- 
factorily describe. At such a moment a man, no matter what 
his creed, sees the hand of the mighty Maker of the universe 
majestically displayed in the beauty of nature ; he becomes 
sensibly conscious, too, of his own littleness. I uttered no word 
for very awe ; I looked upon one of nature's master-pieces. 

"Instantly my heart went out to my sorrowful Arapahoe 
friend of 1875. He had not exaggerated; he had scarcely 
done the scene justice. He spoke of it as the Ijis, the heaven of 
the red man. I regarded it then, and I Still regard it, as the 
Mecca of all appreciative humanity." 

To the west of the Big Horn Basin, Hart Mountain rises 
abruptly from the Shoshone River. It is covered with grassy 
slopes and deep ravines ; perpendicular rocks of every hue 
rise in various places and are fringed with evergreens. Be- 
yond this mountain, in the distance, towers the hoary head of 
Table Mountain. Five miles to the southwest the mountains 
recede some distance from the river, and from its bank Castle 
Rock rises in solitary grandeur. As its name indicates, it has 
the appearance of a castle, with towers, turrets, bastions and 
balconies. 

Grand as is the western view, the chief beauty lies in the 
south. Here the Carter Mountain lies along the entire d.s- 



214 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

tance and the grassy spaces on its side furnish pasturage for 
the deer, antelope and mountain sheep that abound in this 
favored region. Fine timber, too, grows on its rugged slopes; 
jagged, picturesque rock-forms are seen in all directions, and 
numerous cold springs send up their welcome nectar. 

It is among the foothills nestling at the base of this moun- 
tain that Will has chosen the site of his future permanent resi- 
dence. Here there are many little lakes, two of which are 
named Irma and Arta, in honor of his daughters. Here he 
owns a ranch of forty thousand acres, but the home proper 
will comprise a tract of four hundred and eighty acres. The 
two lakes referred to are in this tract, and near them Will pro- 
poses to erect a palatial residence. To him, as he has said, it 
is the Mecca of earth, and thither he hastens the moment he 
is free from duty and obligation. In that enchanted region he 
forgets for a little season the cares and responsibilities of life. 

A curious legend is told of one of the lakes that lie on the 
border of this valley. It is small — half a mile long and a 
quarter wide, but its depth is fathomless. It is bordered and 
shadowed by tall and stately pines, quaking-ash and birch 
trees, and its waters are pure and ice-cold the year round. 
They are medicinal, too, and as yet almost unknown to white 
men. Will heard the legend of the lake from the lips of an 
old Cheyenne warrior. 

" It was the custom of my tribe," said the Indian, "to as- 
semble around this lake once every month, at the hour of 
midnight, when the moon is at its full. Soon after midnight 
a canoe filled with the spectres of departed Cheyenne warriors 
shot out from the eastern side of the lake and crossed rapidly 
to the western border; there it suddenly disappeared. 

' ' Never a word or sound escaped from the spectres in the 
canoe. They sat rigid and silent, and swiftly plied their oars. 
All attempts to get a word from them were in vain. 

"So plainly were the canoe and its occupants seen that the 
features of the warriors were readily distinguished, and rela- 
tives and friends were recognized." 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 215 

For years, according to the legend, the regular monthly trip 
was made, and always from the eastern to the western border 
of the lake. In 1876, it suddenly ceased, and the Indians 
were much alarmed. A party of them camped on the bank 
of the lake, and watchers were appointed for every night. It 
was fancied that the ghostly boatmen had changed the date of 
their excursion. But in three months there was no sign of 
canoe or canoeists, and this was regarded as an omen of evil. 
At a council of the medicine men, chiefs and wiseacres of 
the tribe it was decided that the canoeing trip had been a sig- 
nal from the Great Spirit ; the canoe had proceeded from east 
to west— the course always followed by the red man. The 
spectres had been sent from the Happy Hunting Grounds to 
indicate that the tribe should move further west, and the sud- 
den disappearance of the monthly signal was augured to mean 
the extinction of the race. , . , 1 

Once when Will was standing on the border of this lake, a 
Sioux warrior came up to him. This man was unusually in- 
telligent and desired that his children should be educated. He 
sent his two sons to Carlisle, and himself took great pains to 
learn the white man's religious beliefs, though he still clung 
to his old savage customs and superstitions. A short time be- 
- fore he talked with Will large companies of Indians had made 
pilgrimages to join one large conclave, for the purpose of cel- 
ebrating the Messiah, or " Ghost Dance." Like all religious 
celebrations among savage people, it was accompanied by the 
grossest excesses and most revolting immoralities. As it was 
not known what serious happening these large gatherings might 
portend, the President, at the request of many people, sent 
troops to disperse the Indians. The Indians resisted and blood 
was spilled, among the slain being the sons of the Indian who 
stood by the side of the haunted lake. 

" It is written in the Great Book of the white man," said 
the old chief to Will, "that the Great Spirit— the Nan-tan-in- 
chor-istocometohim again on earth. The white men in 
the big villages go to their council-lodges (churches) and talk 



2l6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

about the time of his coming. Some say one time, some say 
another, but they all knov; the time will come, for it is 
written in the Great Book. It is the great and good among 
the white men that go to these council-lodges, and those 
that do not go say, ' It is well ; we believe as they be- 
lieve, He will come.' It is written in the Great Book of the 
white man that all the human beings on earth are the children 
of the one Great Spirit. He provides and cares for them. All 
He asks in return is that his children obey him, that they be 
good to one another, that they judge not one another, and that 
they do not kill or steal. Have I spoken truly the words of 
the white man's Book ? " 

Will bowed his head, somewhat surprised at the tone of the 
old chief's conversation. The other continued : 

" The red man, too, has a Great Book. You have never 
seen it ; no white man has ever seen it, it is hidden here." He 
pressed his hand against his heart. "The teachings of the 
two books are the same. What the Great Spirit says to the 
white man, the Nan-tan-in-chor says to the red man. We, 
too, go to our council-lodges to talk of the second com- 
ing. We have our ceremony, as the white man has his. The 
white man is solemn, sorrowful ; the red man is happy 
and glad. We dance and are joyful, and the white man sends 
soldiers to shoot us down. Does their Great Spirit tell them 
to do this ? 

" In the big city (Washington) where I have been there is 
another big book (the Federal Constitution), which says the 
white man shall not interfere with the religious liberty of an- 
other. And yet they come out to our country and kill us when 
we show our joy to Nan-tan-in-chor. 

" We rejoice over his second coming, the white man mourns, 
but he sends his soldiers to kill us in our rejoicing. Bah ! The 
white man is false. I return to my people, and to the customs 
and habits of my forefathers. I am an Indian! " 

The old chief strode away with the dignitj^ of a red Caesar 
and Will, alone by the lake, reflected that every question has 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 217 

two sides to it. The one the red man has held in the case of 
the commonwealth versus the Indian has ever been the tragic 
side. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

ORGANIZATION OF THE " WILD WEST SHOW" — OPENING AT 
OMAHA — TOUR OF GREAT BRITAIN — SPECTACULAR EF- 
FECTS — IN LONDON — LUNCHEON IN HONOR OF GLAD- 
STONE — PATRONAGE OF ROYALTY — THE QUEEN'S SALUTE 
TO THE AMERICAN FLAG — THE DEADWOOD COACH — IN- 
DIAN BREAKFASTS — HOMEWARD BOUND. 

T was not until the spring of 
1883 that Will was able to put 
into execution his long-cher- 
ished plan, to present to the 
public an exhibition that 
should delineate, in part at 
least, the wild life of America; 
a life that the most of his 
countrymen were as ignorant 
of as the people of Europe. 
Thus came into existence 
" The Wild West Show," and 
the first performance was held 
at Omaha, in the state Will 
had chosen for his home. 

Of " Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show " there is no present 
need of description. It has visited nearly every large city on the 
civilized globe, and has been viewed by countless thousands, 
who have pronounced it the most original show in the world. 
It is peculiarly a product of the nineteenth century and, with 
the name of its originator, will long hold a place in history. 
As a child, I v/ept and refused to be comforted because of our 
brother's persistent clinging to his show ideas, and his disre- 
218 




LAST OF THE GREAT vSCOUTS. 219 

gard of the larger sphere predicted by the soothsayer, but as a 
woman I rejoice that he was true to his own ideals, for he 
sits his horse with a stately grace that's better suited to the 
saddle than to the Presidential chair. And to-day, when he 
has seen the unfolding of every blossom of his hopes, when 
the show is an old story to him, I yet catch in his voice a ring 
of joy as he advances before his great audiences and exclaims: 

" Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to introduce to you a 
congress of the rough riders of the world! ' ' 

From the very bepnning the show was an immense success. 
Three years were spent in visiting the large cities of the United 
States, then Will conceived the idea of visiting England, and 
exhibiting to the mother race the wild side of the child's life. 
This plan entailed enormous expense, but it was carried out 
satisfactorily, W. F. Cody and Nate Salsbury forming a partner- 
ship in the enterprise. 

Still true to the state of his adoption, Will chartered the 
&i&a.mer State of Nebraska, and on March 31, 1886, a living 
fraight from the picturesque new world began its voyage to 
the old. 

At Gravesend, England, the first sight to meet the eyes of 
the watchers on the steamer was a tug flying American colors. 
Three ringing cheers saluted the beautiful emblem, and the 
band on the tug responded with " The Star-Spangled Banner." 
Not to be outdone, the cowboy band on the State of Nebraska 
struck up ' ' Yankee Doodle. ' ' The tug had been chartered 
by a company of Englishmen, for the purpose of v/elcoming 
the novel American combination to British soil. 

When the landing was made the members of the Wild West 
company entered special coaches and were whirled toward Lon- 
don. Then even the stolidity of the Indians was not proof 
against sights so little resembling those to which they had been 
accustomed, and they showed their pleasure and appreciation 
by frequent repetition of the red man's characteristic grunt. 

Maj. John M. Burke had made the needed arrangements for 
housing the big show, and preparations on a gigantic scale 



220 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

were rapidly pushed to please an impatient London public. 
More effort was made to produce spectacular effects in the 
London amphitheater than is possible where a merely tempor- 
ary staging is erected for one day's exhibition. The arena was 
a third of a mile in circumference and provided accommodation 
for forty thousand spectators. The cost of the London prepara- 
tions was $125,000. Here, as at Manchester, where another 
great amphitheater was erected in the fall to serve as winter 
quarters, the artist's brush was called on to furnish illusions. 

It is not necessary to enumerate the features of a show with 
which the American public is so familiar — the Indian war- 
dance, the bucking broncho speedily subjected by the valorous 
cowboy, and the stage-coach attacked by Indians and rescued 
by United States troops. Besides these, an Indian village on 
the plains was presented to the English public. The artist had 
counterfeited the plains successfully. It is the hour of dawn. 
Scattered about the plains are various wild animals. Within 
their tents the Indians are sleeping. Sunrise, and a friendly 
Indian tribe comes to visit the v/akening wariors. A friendly 
dance is executed, at the close of which a courier rushes in to 
announce the approach of a hostile tribe. These follow almost 
at the courier's heels, and a sham battle occurs, which affords 
a good idea of the barbarity of Indian warfare. The victors 
celebrate their triumph with a wild war dance. 

A Puritan scene follows. The landing of the Pilgrims is 
shown, and the rescue of John Smith by Pocahontas. This 
affords opportunity for delineating many interesting Indian 
customs on festive celebrations, such as weddings and feast 
days. 

Again the prairie. A buffalo lick is shown. The shaggy 
monsters come down to drink, and in pursuit of them is 
" Buffalo Bill," mounted on his good horse "Charlie." He 
has been acting as guide for an emigrant party, which soon 
appears. Camp fires are lighted, supper is eaten and the camp 
sinks into slumber with the dwindling of the fires. Then 
comes a fine bit of stage illusion. A red glow is seen in the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 221 

distance, faint at first, but slowly deepening and broadening. 
It creeps along the whole horizon, and the camp is awakened 
by the alarming intelligence that the prairie is on fire. The 
emigrants rush out, and heroically seek to fight back the rush- 
ing, roaring flames. Wild animals, driven by the flames, dash 
through the camp, and a stampede follows. This scene was ex- 
tremely realistic. 

A cyclone was also simulated, and a whole village blown out 
of existence. 

The Wild West Show was received with enthusiasm, not 
only by the general public, but by royalty. Gladstone made a 
call upon Will, in company with the Marquis of Lome, and, 
in return, a lunch was tendered to the " Grand Old Man " by 
the American visitors. In an after-dinner speech, the English 
statesman spoke in the warmest terms of America. He thanked 
Will for the good he was doing in presenting to the English 
public a picture of the wild life of the Western Continent, 
which serv^ed to illustrate the difficulties encountered by a 
sister nation in its onward march of civilization. 

The initial performance was before a royal party, comprising 
the Prince and Princess of Wales, and suite. At the close of 
the exhibition the royal guests, at their own request, were pre- 
sented to the members of the company. Unprepared for this 
contingency. Will had forgotten to coach the performers in the 
correct methods of saluting royalty, and when the girl shots 
of the companj^ were presented to the Princess of Wales, they 
stepped forward in true democratic fashion and cordially of- 
fered their hands to the lovely woman who had honored them. 

According to English usage, the Princess extends the hand, 
palm down, to favored guests, and these reverently touch the 
finger-tips and lift the hand to their lips. Perhaps the spon- 
taneity of the American girls' welcome was esteemed a pleas- 
ing variety to the established custom. At all events Her 
Highness, true to her breeding, appeared not to notice any 
breach of etiquette, but took the proffered hands and shook 
them cordially. 



222 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

The Indian camp was also visited and Red Shirt, the great 
chief, was, like every one else, delighted with the Princess, 
Through an interpreter the Prince expressed his pleasure over 
the performance of the braves, headed by their great chief, 
and the Princess bade him welcome to England. Red Shirt 
had the Indian gift cf oratory and he replied, in the unimpas- 
sioned speech for which the race is noted, that it made his 
heart glad to hear such kind words from the Great White Chief 
and his beautiful squaw. 

During the round the Prince stopped in at Will's private 
quarters and took much interest in his souvenirs, being espe- 
cially pleased with a magnificent gold-hilted sword, presented 
to Will by officers of the United States Army, in recognition 
of his services as scout. 

This was not the only time the Wild West Show was hon- 
ored by the visit of royalty. That the Prince of Wales was 
sincere in his expression of enjoyment of the exhibition was 
evidenced by the report that he carried to his mother, and 
shortly afterward a command came from Queen Victoria that 
the big show appear before her. It was plainly impossible to 
take the Wild West to court; the next best thing was to con- 
struct a special box for the use of Her Majesty. This box 
was placed upon a dais covered with crimson velvet trimmings, 
and was superbly decorated. When the Queen arrived and 
was driven around to the royal box. Will stepped forward as 
she dismounted, and, dofEng his sombrero, made a low cour- 
tesy to the sovereign lady of Great Britain, "Welcome, your 
Majesty," said he, "to the Wild West of America ! " 

One of the first acts in the performance is to carry the flag 
to the front. This is done by a soldier, and is introduced to 
the spectators as an emblem of a nation desirous of peace and 
friendship with all the world. On this occasion it was borne 
directly before the Queen's box and dipped three times in 
honor of Pier Majesty. The action of the Queen surprised the 
company and the vast throng of spectators. Rising, she 
saluted the American flag with a bow, and her suite followed 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 223 

her example, the gentlemen removing their hats. Will ac- 
knowledged the courtesy by waving his sombrero about his 
head, and his delighted company with one accord gave three 
ringing cheers that made the arena echo, assuring the specta- 
tors of the healthy condition of the lungs of the American 
visitors. 

The Queen's complaisance put the entire company on their 
mettle, and the performance was given magnificently. At the 
close Queen Victoria asked to have Will presented to her, and 
paid him so many compliments as almost to bring a blush to his 
bronzed cheek. Red Shirt was also presented, and informed 
Her Majesty that he had come across the Great Water solely 
to see her, and his heart was glad. This polite speech dis- 
covered a streak in Indian nature that, properly cultivated, 
would fit the red man to shine as a courtier or politician. Red 
Shirt walked away with the insouciance of a king dismissing 
an audience, and some of the squaws came to display papooses 
to the Great White Lady. These children of nature were not 
the least awed by the honor done them. They blinked at Her 
Majesty as if the presence of queens was an incident of their 
every-day existence. 

A second command from the Queen resulted in another exhi- 
bition before a number of her royal guests. The Kings of 
Saxony, Denmark and Greece, the Queen of the Belgians, and 
the Crown Prince of Austria, with others of lesser rank, illum- 
ined this occasion. 

The Dead wood coach was peculiarly honored. This was a 
coach with a history. It was built in Concord, N. H., and 
sent to the Pacific Coast to run over a trail infested by road 
agents. A number of times was it held up and the passengers 
robbed, and finally, both driver and passengers w^ere killed 
and the coach abandoned on the trail, as no one could be found 
that would undertake to drive it. It remained derelict for a 
long time, but was at last brought into San Francisco by an 
old stage-driver, and placed on the Overland trail. It gradu- 
ally worked its way eastward to the Dead wood route, and on this 



224 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

line figured in a number of encounters with Indians. Again 
were driver and passengers massacred, and again was the 
coach abandoned. Will ran across it on one of his scouting 
expeditions, and recognizing its value as an adjunct to his 
exhibition, purchased it. Thereafter the tragedies it figured 
in were of the mock variety. 

One of the incidents of the Wild West Show, as all remem- 
ber, is an Indian attack on the Deadwood coach. The royal 
visitors wished to put themselves in the place of the traveling 
public in the Western regions of America, so the four poten- 
tates of Denmark, Saxony, Greece and Austria became the 
passengers, and the Prince of Wales sat on the box with Will. 
The Indians had been secretly instructed to " whoop 'em up " 
on this interesting occasion, and they followed energetically 
the letter of their instructions. The coach was surrounded by 
a demoniac band, and the blank cartridges were discharged 
in such close proximity to the coach windows that the passen- 
gers could easily imagine themselves to be actual Western 
travelers. Rumor hath it that they sought refuge under the 
seats, and probably no one would blame them if they did, but 
it is only rumor, and not history. 

When the wild ride was over, the Prince of Wales, who ad- 
mires the American national game of poker, turned to the 
driver v/ith the remark : 

" Colonel, you never held four kings like that before." 

" I have held four kings more than once," was the prompt 
reply ; " but, Your Highness, I never held four kings and the 
royal joker before." 

The Prince laughed heartily ; but Will's sj'mpathy went 
out to him when he found that he was obliged to explain his 
joke in four different languages to the passengers. 

In recognition of this performance, the Prince of Wales 
sent Will a handsome souvenir. It consisted of his feathered 
crest, outlined in diamonds, and bearing the motto " Ich dien,'^ 
worked in jewels underneath. An accompanying note expressed 
the pleasure of the royal visitors over the novel exhibition. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 225 

Upon another occasion the Princess of Wales visited the 
show incognita, first advising Will of her intention, and at the 
close of the performance assured him that she had spent a de- 
lightful evening. 

The set performances of the Wild West were punctuated by 
social entertainments. James G. Blaine, Chauncey M. Depew, 
Murat Halstead and other prominent Americans were in Lon- 
don at the time, and in their honor Will issued invitations to 
a rib-roast breakfast prepared in Indian style. Fully one hun- 
dred guests gathered in the Wild West's dining tent at nine 
o'clock of June 10, 1887. Besides the novel decorations of 
the tent, it was interesting to watch the Indian cooks putting 
the finishing touches to their roasts. A hole had been dug in 
the ground, a large tripod erected over it, and upon this the 
ribs of beef were suspended. The fire was of logs, burned 
down to a bed of glowing coals, and over these the meat was 
turned around and around until it was cooked to a nicety. 
This method of open-air cooking over wood imparts to the 
meat a flavor that can be given to it in no other way. 

The breakfast was unconventional. Part of the bill of fare 
was hominy, Wild West pudding, popcorn and peanuts. The 
Indians squatted on the straw at the end of the dining tables 
and ate from their fingers, or speared the meat with long 
white sticks. The striking contrast of table manners was an 
interesting object lesson in the progress of civilization. 

The breakfast was a novelty to the Americans who partook 
of it, and they enjoyed it thoroughly. 

Will was made a social lion during his stay in London, 
being dined and feted upon various occasions. Only a man of 
the most rugged health could have endured the strain of his 
daily performances united with his social obligations. 

The London season was triumphantly closed with a meeting 
for the establishing of a court of arbitration, to settle disputes 
between America and England. 

After leaving the English metropolis the show visited Bir- 
mingham and thence proceeded to its winter headquarters in 



J.AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 227 

He was au animal of almost human intelligence, extraordinary 
speed, endurance and fidelity. When he was quite young 
I rode him on a hunt for wild horses, which he ran down after 
a chase of fifteen miles. At another time on a wager of five 
hundred dollars that I could ride him over the prairie one hun- 
dred miles in ten hours, he went the distance in nine hours and 
forty-five minutes. 

" When I opened my ' Wild West ' show at Omaha in May, 
1883, Charlie was the star horse, and held that position at all 
the exhibitions in this country and in Europe, where I took the 
show in 1887. In London the horse attracted a full share of 
attention, and many scions of royalty solicited the favor of 
riding him. Grand Duke Michael of Russia rode Charlie 
several times in chase of my herd of buffaloes and became 
quite attached to him. In May last, the Knglish engagement 
having closed, we all embarked on the Persian Monarch at 
Hull for New York. On the morning of the 14th I made my 
usual visit to Charlie between decks. Shortly after the groom 
reported him sick, and I found him in a chill. He grew rapidly 
worse in spite of all our care, and at two o'clock on the morn- 
ing of the 1 7th he died. His death cast an air of sadness over 
the whole ship, and a human being could not have had more 
sincere mourners than the faithful and sagacious old horse. 
He was brought on deck, wrapped in canvas and covered with 
the American flag. When the hour for the ocean burial ar- 
rived the members of my company and others assembled on 
deck. Standing alone with uncovered head beside the dead 
was the one whose life the noble animal had shared so long. 
At length with choking utterance he spoke, and Charlie, for 
the first time failed to hear the familiar voice he had always 
been so prompt to obey : 

" 'Old fellow, your journeys are over. Here beneath the 
ocean billows you must rest. Would that I could take you 
back and lay you down beneath the verdant billows of that 
prairie you and I have loved so well and roamed so freely ; but 
it cannot be. How oft at the most quiet hour have we been 
journeying over their trackless wastes ! How oft at break of 
day, when the glorious sun rising on the horizon has found us 
far from human habitation, have you reminded me of your need 
and mine, and with your beautiful ears bent forward and your 
gentle neigh given voice as plainly as human tongue to urge 
me to prepare our morning meal ! And then, obedient to my 
call, gladly you bore your burden on, little knowing, little 



228 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

reckoning what the day might bring, so that you and I but 
shared its sorrows and pleasures alike. Nay, but for your 
willing speed and tireless courage I would many years ago have 
lain as low as you are now, and my Indian foe have claimed 
you as his slave. Yet j^ou have never failed me. Ah, Charlie, 
old fellow, I have had many friends, but few of whom I could 
say that. Rest, entombed in the deep bosom of the ocean ! 
May your rest nevermore be disturbed. I'll never forget you. 
I loved you as you loved me, my dear old Charlie. Men tell 
me you have no soul ; but if there be a heaven, and scouts can 
enter there, I'll wait at the gate for you, old friend.' 

' ' Whereupon Charlie was allowed to slide gently down a pair 
of skids into the water. The accompanying engraving is a 
lifelike portrait of Charlie when at the age of fifteen years." 

On the homeward trip Will made the acquaintance of a 
clergyman returning from a vacation spent in Europe. When 
they neared the American coast this gentleman prepared a 
telegram to send to his congregation. It read simply: "II. 
John, I-I2." Chancing to see it, Will's interest was aroused, 
and he asked the clergyman to explain the significance of the 
reference, and when this was done he was delighted. 

"I have a religious sister at home," said he, " who knows 
the Bible so well, that I believe if I were to wire her that mes- 
sage she would not need to look up the meaning. ' ' 

He duplicated to me, as his return greeting, the minister's 
telegram to his congregation, but I did not justify his high 
opinion of my Biblical knowledge. I was obliged to search 
the Scriptures to unravel the enigma. How many of my 
readers are wise enough to translate II. John, i -12, without 
recourse to the book of books for information ? 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

RETURN OF THK WILD WEST SHOW TO AMERICA— A LETTER 
FROM W. T. SHERMAN— THE SEASON ON STATEN ISLAND 
—AN INVITATION TO LEAD IN PRAYER— OFF FOR EUROPE 
AGAIN— THE SOJOURN IN PARIS— ROSA BONHEUR— POPE 
LEO'S ANNIVERSARY — THE COWBOYS SHOW THE ITALIANS 
SOME POINTS IN HORSE TAMING— TOUR OP GERMANY. 



HEN the Wild West show re- 
turned to America from its first 
venture across seas, the sail up 
the harbor was described by 
theJVew York World in the 
following words : 

' ' The harbor probably has 
never witnessed a more pictur- 
esque scene than that of yester- 
day, when the Persian Monarch 
steamed up from quarantine. 
Buffalo Bill stood on the 
captain's bridge, his tall and 
striking figure clearly outlined , 
and his long hair waving in 
the wind ; the gaily-painted 
and blanketed Indians leaned over the ship's rail ; the flags of 
all nations fluttered from the masts and connecting cables. 
The cowboy band played ' Yankee Doodle ' with a vim and 
enthusiasm which faintly indicated the joy felt by everybody 
connected with the Wild West, including the musicians, over 
the sight of home. ' ' 

Will had been cordially welcomed by our English cousins, 
and had been the recipient of many social favors, but no 

229 




230 LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 

amount of foreign flattery could change him one hair from an 
" American of the Americans," and he experienced a thrill of 
delight as he again stepped foot upon his native land. Shortly 
afterward he was much pleased by a letter from William T. 
Sherman — so greatly prized that it was framed, and now hangs 
on the wall of his Nebraska home. Following is a copy: 

" Fifth Avenue Hotel, New York. 
' ' Colonel Wm. F. Cody : 

'' Dear Sir: In common with all your countrymen, I want to let 
you know that I am not only grat ified , but proud of 3-our manage- 
ment and success. vSo far as I can makeout, you have been modest, 
graceful and dignified in all you have done to illustrate the 
histor}' of civilization on this continent during the past cen- 
tury. I am especially pleased with the compliment paid you 
by the Prince of Wales, who rode with you in the Deadwood 
coach while it was attacked by Indians and rescued by cow- 
boys. Such things did occur in our days, but they never wall 
again. 

" As nearly as I can estimate, there were in 1865 about nine 
and one-half million of buffaloes on the plains between the 
Missouri River and the Rocky Mountains; all are now gone, killed 
for their meat, their skins and their bones. This seems like 
desecration, cruelty and murder, yet they have been replaced 
by twice as many cattle. At that date there were about 165,- 
000 Pawnees, Sioux, Cheyennes and Arapahoes, who depended 
upon these buffaloes for their yearly food. They, too, have 
gone, but they have been replaced by twice or thrice as many 
white men and women, who have made the earth to blossom 
as the rose, and who can be counted, taxed and governed by 
the laws of nature and civilization. This change has been 
alutary, and will go on to the end. You have caught one 
epoch of this country's history, and have illustrated it in the 
very heart of the modern world — London, and I want you to 
feel that on this side of the water we appreciate it. 

" This drama must end; days, years and centuries follow fast; 
even the drama of civilization must have an end. All I aim 
to accomplish on this sheet of paper is to assure you that I 
fully recognize your work. The presence of the Queen, the 
beautiful Princess of Wales, the Prince, and the British public, 
are marks of favor which reflect back on America sparks of 
light, which illuminate many a house and cabin in the land 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 23I 

where once 5'ou guided me honesth^ and faithfully, in 1865- 
'66, from Fort Riley to Kearney, in Kansas and Nebraska. 

Sincerely your friend, 

W. T. Sherman." 

Having demonstrated to his satisfaction that the largest 
measure of success lay in a stationary exhibition of his show, 
where the population was large enough to warrant it. Will 
purchased a tract of land on Staten Island, and here he landed 
on his return from England. Teamsters for miles around had 
been engaged to transport the outfit acro.ss the i.sland to Eras- 
tina, the site chosen for the exhibition. And you may be cer- 
tain that Cut Meat, American Bear, Flat Iron and the other 
Indians furnished unlimited joy to the ubiquitous small boy, 
who was present by the hundreds to watch the unloading 
scenes. 

The summer season at this point was a great success. One 
incident connected with it may be worth the relating. 

Teachers everywhere have recognized the value of the 
Wild West Show as an educator, and in a number of instances 
public schools have been dismissed to afford the children an 
opportunity of attending the entertainment. It has not, how- 
ever, been generally recognized as a spur to religious progress, 
yet, while at Staten Island, Will was invited to exhibit a band 
of his Indians at a missionary meeting given under the 
auspices of a large mission Sunday school. He appeared with 
his warriors, who were expected to give one of their religious 
dances as an object lesson in devotional ceremonials. 

The meeting was largely attended, and every one, children 
especially, waited for the exercises in excited curiosity and 
interest. Will sat on the platform with the superintendent, 
pastor and others in authority, and close by sat the band of 
stolid-faced Indians. 

The service began with a hymn and the reading of the Scrip- 
tures ; then, to Will's horror, the superintendent requested 
him to lead the meeting in prayer. Perhaps the good man 
fancied that Will for a score of years had fought Indians with 



232 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

a rifle in one hand and a prayer-book in the other, and was as 
prepared to pray as to shoot. At least he surely did not make 
his request with the thought of embarrassing Will, though that 
was the natural result. However, Will held holy things in 
deepest reverence ; he had the spirit of gospel if not the letter, 
so, rising, he quietly and simply, with bowed head, re- 
peated the Lord's Prayer. 

A winter exhibition under roof was given in New York, 
after which the show made a tour of the principal cities of the 
United States. Thus passed several years, and then arrange- 
ments were made for a grand Continental trip. A plan had 
been maturing in Will's mind ever since the British sea- 
son, and in the spring of '89 it was carried into effect. 

The steamer Persian Monarch was again chartered, and this 
time its prow was turned toward the shores of France. Paris 
was the destination, and seven months were passed in the gay 
capital. The Parisians received the show with as much en- 
thusiasm as did the Londoners, and in Paris, as well as in the 
English metropolis, everything American became a fad during 
the stay of the Wild West . Even American books were read 
— a crucial test of faddism — and American curios were displayed 
in all the shops. Relics from American plain and mountain — 
buffalo robes, bearskins, buckskin suits embroidered with 
porcupine quills, Indian blankets, woven mats, bows and 
arrows, bead-mats, Mexican bridles and saddles — sold like the 
proverbial hot cakes. 

In Paris, also. Will became a social favorite, and had he ac- 
cepted a tenth of the invitations to receptions, dinners and 
balls showered upon him, he would have been obliged to close 
his show. 

While in this city Will accepted an invitation from Rosa 
Bonheur to visit her at her superb chateau, and in return for 
the honor he extended to her the freedom of his stables, which 
contained magnificent horses used for transportation purposes, 
and which never appeared in the public performance — Per- 
cherons of the breed depicted by the famous artist in her well- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 233 

known painting of "The Horse Fair." Day upon day she 
visited the camp and made studies, and as a token of her ap- 
preciation of the courtesy, painted a picture of Will mounted 
on his favorite horse, both horse and rider bedecked with 
frontier paraphernalia. This souvenir, which holds the place 
of honor in his collection, he immediately shipped home. 

The wife of a L,ondon embassy attach^ relates the following 
story : 

"During the time that Colonel Cody was making his tri- 
umphant tour of Europe, I was one night seated at a banquet 
next to the Belgian Consul. Early in the course of the con- 
versation he asked : 

" • Madame, you haf undoubted been to see ze gr-rand Bouf- 
falo Beel ? ' 

" Puzzled by the apparently unfamiliar name, I asked : 

" ' Pardon me, but whom did you say ? ' 

" * Vy, Bouf-falo Beel, ze famous Bouf-falo Beel, zat gr-reat 
countryman of yours. You must know him. ' 

" After a moment's thought, I recognized the well-known 
showman's name in its disguise. I comprehended that the 
good Belgian thought his to be one of America's most eminent 
names, to be mentioned in the same breath with Washington 
and lyincoln." 

After leaving Paris a short tour of Southern France was 
made, and at Marseilles a vessel was chartered to transport the 
company to Spain. The Spanish grandees eschewed their 
favorite amusement — the bull-fight — long enough to give a 
hearty welcome to the Wild West. Next followed a tour of 
Italy, and the visit to Rome was the most interesting of the 
experiences in this country. 

The Americans reached the Eternal City at the time of Pope 
Leo's anniversary celebration and, on the Pope's invitation, 
Will visited the Vatican. Its historic walls have rarely, if 
ever, looked upon a more curious sight than was presented 
when Will walked in followed by the cowboys in their buck- 
skins and sombreros, and the Indians in war-paint and feathers. 



234 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

Around them crowded a motley throng of ItaHans, clad in the 
brilliant colors so loved by these children of the south, and 
nearly every nationality was represented in the assemblage. 

Some of the cowbo5's and Indians had been reared in the 
Catholic faith, and when the Pope appeared they knelt for his 
blessing. He seemed touched by this action on the part of 
those whom he might be di.sposed to regard as savages, and, 
bending forward, extended his hands and pronounced a benedic- 
tion ; then he passed on, and it was with the greatest difficulty 
that the Indians were restrained from expressing their emotions 
in a wild whoop. This, no doubt, would have relieved them, 
but it would, in all probability, have stampeded the crowd. 

When the Pope reached Will he looked admiringly upon the 
frontiersman. The world-known scout bent his head before 
the aged " Medicine Man," as the Indians call his Reverence, 
the Papal blessing was again bestowed, and the procession 
passed on. The Thanksgiving Mass, with its fine choral ac- 
companiment, was given, and the vast concourse of people 
poured out of the building. 

This visit attracted much attention, and many were the news- 
paper accounts of it. The following verses are worthy of reprint: 

BUFFAIvO BILL AND THE ROMANS. 

" I'll take my stalwart Indian braves 

Down to the Coliseum, 
And the old Romans from theii graves 

Will all arise to see 'em. 
Praetors and censors will return 

And hasten through the Forum ; 
The ghostly Senate will adjourn. 

Because it lacks a quorum. 

' ' And up the ancient Appian Way 

Will flock the ghostly legions ; 
From Gaul unto Calabria, 

And from remoter regions ; 
From British bay and wild lagoon. 

And Libyan desert sandy, 
They'll all come marching to the tune 

Of ' Yankee Doodle Dandy. ' 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 235 

' Prepare triumphal cars for me, 

And purple thrones to sit on, 
For I've done more than Julius C, 

He could not down the Briton ! 
Caesar and Cicero shall bow. 

And ancient warriors famous, 
Before the myrtle- wreathed brow 

Of Buffalo Williamus. 



" We march, unwhipped, through history — 

No bulwark can detain us — 
And link the age of Grover C. 

And Scipio Africanus. 
I'll take my stalwart Indian braves 

Down to the Coliseum, 
And the old Romans from their graves 

Will all arise to see 'em." 



It may be mentioned in passing that Will had visited the 
Coliseum with an eye to securing it as an amphitheater for the 
Wild West exhibition, but the historic ruin was too dilapi- 
dated to be a safe arena for such a purpose and the idea was 
abandoned. 

The sojourn in Rome was enlivened by an incident that 
created much interest among the natives. The Italians were 
somewhat skeptical as to the abilities of the cowboys to tame 
wild horses, believing the bronchos in the show were specially 
trained for their work, and that the horse-breaking was a mock 
exhibition. 

The Prince of Sermonetta declared that he had some wild 
horses in his stud which no cowboys in the world could ride. 
The challenge was promptly taken up by the daring riders of 
the plains, and the Prince sent for his wild steeds. That tbey 
might not run amuck and injure the spectators, specially pre- 
pared booths of great strength were erected. The greatest in- 
terest and enthusiasm were manifested by the populace, and the 
death of two or three members of the company was as confi- 
dently looked for as was the demise of sundry gladiators in the 
' ' brave days of old. ' ' 



236 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

But the cowboys laughed at so great a fuss over so small a 
matter, and when the horses were driven into the arena, and 
the spectators held their breath, the cowboys, lassoes in hand, 
awaited the work with the utmost nonchalance. 

The wild equines sprang into the air, darted hither and 
thither, and fought hard against their certain fate, but in less 
time than would be required to give the details, the cowboys 
had flung their lassoes, caught the horses, and saddled and 
mounted them. The spirited beasts still resisted and sought 
in every way to throw their riders, but the experienced plain.5- 
men had them under control in a very short time, and as they 
rode them around the arena the spectators rose and howled 
with delight. The display of horsemanship effectually silenced 
the skeptics. It captured the Roman heart, and the remainder 
of the stay in the city was attended by unusual enthusiasm. 

Beautiful Florence, practical Bologna, and stately Milan, 
with its many-spired cathedral, were next on the list for the 
triumphal march. For the Venetian public the exhibition had 
to be given at Verona, in the historic amphitheater built by 
Diocletian, A.D. 290. This is the largest building in the 
world, and within the walls of this representative of old-world 
civilization the difficulties over which new-world civilization 
had triumphed were portrayed. Here met the old and the 
new; hoary antiquity and bounding youth kissed each other 
under the sunny Italian skies. 

The Wild West now moved northward, through the Tyrol 
to Munich, and from here the Americans digressed for an ex- 
cursion on the "beautiful blue Danube." Then followed a 
successful tour of Germany. 

During this continental circuit Will's elder daughter, Arta, 
who had accompanied him on his British expedition, was mar- 
ried. It was impossible for the father to be present, but by 
cablegram he sent his congratulations and a check for five 
thousand dollars, which arrived just as the wedding pair ad- 
vanced to take their solemn vows. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

RETURN TO AMERICA — THE SIOUX UPRISING OF '9 1 — INFLU- 
ENCE EXERTED OVER THE INDIANS BY THE WILD WEST 
SHOW — WILL'S OPINION OF GENERAL MILES — BANQUET 
IN HONOR OF THE GENERAL — BURNING OF ' ' WELCOME 
wigwam" — BACK TO EUROPE— END OF THE FOREIGN 
TOUR. 



N view of the success achieved 
by my brother in every walk 
of life he set foot on, it is re- 
markable that he excited so 
little envy. For the first time 
in his life he felt the breath of 
slander on his cheek, and it 
flushed hotly. From an idle 
remark, that the Indians in the 
Wild West Show were not 
properly treated, the idle gossip 
grew to the proportion of 
malicious and insistent slander. 
The Indians being government i 
wards, such a charge might easily become a serious matter; for 
like the man that beat his wife, the government believes it has 
the right to maltreat the red man to the top of its bent, but 
that no one else shall be allowed to do so. 

A winter campaign of the Wild West had been contemplated; 
but the project was abandoned and winter quarters decided on. 
In the quaint little village of Benfield was an ancient nunnery 
and a castle with good stables. Here Will left the company 

237 




238 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

ill charge of his partner, Mr. Nate Salsbmy, and, accompanied 
by the Indians for whose welfare he was responsible, set sail 
for America to silence his calumniators. 

The testimony of the red men themselves was all that was 
required to refute the notorious untruths. Few had placed 
any belief in the reports, and friendly commentors were also 
active. When Will's intended return to America was noised 
about, the following tribute appeared in a Duluth paper : 

COLUMBIA TO BUFFALO BILL. 

Far away, far away, over the seas, 
Teaching with warriors the beauty of peace ; 
Where civilization and savagery blend. 
Showing that dark man and fair may be friend ; 
Courted and petted and honored each day, 
By countries that bowed not to Bonaparte's sway — 
Come to America, 'tis your home still — 
Come back, my rover boy, Buffalo Bill ! 



Up from the now placid plains comes a sigh, 

Echoed by mountains that kiss the blue sky, 

Echoed by cities that grew in the path 

Of the red men you quelled when they 3'elled in their wrath. 

Bear it, thou wind of the far western sea, 

The sigh from my breast with this message from me : 

Come to Columbia, who dotes on thee still — 

Come back, my gallant son, Buffalo Bill ! 



As the sequel proved. Will came home very opportunely. 
The Sioux iu Dakota were again on the war-path, and his help 
was needed to subdue the uprising. He disbanded the warriors 
he had brought back from Europe, and each returned to his 
own tribe and people, to narrate around the camp-fire the won- 
ders of the life abroad, while Will reported at headquarters to 
offer his services for the war. Two years previous he had 
been honored by the commission of Brigadier-General of tlic 
Nebraska National Guard, which rank and title was given to 
him by Governor Thayer. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 239 

The officer in command of the Indian campaign was General 
Nelson A. Miles, who has rendered so many important services 
to his country, and who, as Commander-in-Chief of our army, 
played so large a part in the recent war with Spain. At the 
time of the Indian uprising he held the rank of Brigadier- 
General. 

This brilliant and able officer was much pleased when he 
learned that he would have Will's assistance in conducting the 
campaign, for he knew the value of his good judgment, cool 
head and executive ability, and of his large experience in deal- 
ing wnth Indians. 

The Wild West, which had served as an educator to the 
people of Europe in presenting the frontier life of America, 
had quietly worked as important educational influences 
in the minds of the Indians connected with the show. They 
had seen for themselves the wonders of the world's civi- 
lization; they realized how futile were the efforts of the chil- 
dren of the plains to stem the resistless tide of progress flow- 
ing westward. Potentates had delighted to do honor to Pa-has- 
ka, the lyOng-Haired Chief, and in the e5^es of the simple 
savage he was as powerful as any of the great ones of earth. 
To him his word was law; it seemed worse than folly for their 
brethren to attempt to cope with so mighty a chief, therefore, 
their influence was all for peace, and the fact that so many 
tribes did not join in the uprising may be attributed, in part, 
to their good counsel and advice. 

General Miles was both able and energetic, and managed the 
campaign in masterly fashion. There were one or two hard 
fought battles, in one of which the great Sioux warrior, Sit- 
ting Bull, the ablest that nation ever produced, was slain. 
This Indian had traveled with Will for a time, but could not 
be weaned from his loyalty to his own tribe and a desire to 
avenge upon the white man the wrongs inflicted on his people. 

What promised at the outset to be a long and cruel frontier 
war, was speedily quelled. The death of Sitting Bull had some- 
thing to do with the termination of hostilities. Arrangements 



240 lAST OF THR GREAT SCOUTS. 

for peace were soou perfected, and Will attributed the govern- 
ment's success to the energy of its officer in command, for whom 
he has a most enthusiastic admiration. He paid this tribute to 
him recentl)' : 

" I have been in many campaigns with General Miles, and 
a better general and more gifted warrior I have never seen. I 
served in the Civil War, and in any number of Indian wars, I 
have been under at least a dozen generals, with whom I have 
been thrown in close contact because of the nature of the ser- 
vices which I was called upon to render. General Miles is the 
peer of them all. 

"I have known Phil Sheridan, Tecumseh Sherman, Hancock 
and all of our noted Indian fighters. For cool judgment, and 
thorough knowledge of all that pertains to military affairs, none 
of them, in my opinion, can be said to excel General Nelson A. 
Miles. 

" Ah, what a man he is ! I know. We have been shoulder to 
shoulder in many a hard march. We have been together when 
men find out what their comrades really are. He is a man, 
every inch of him, and the best general I ever served under." 

After Miles was put in command of the forces a dinner was 
given in his honor by John Chamberlin. Will was a guest 
and one of the speakers, and took the opportunity to eulogize 
his old friend. He dwelt at length on the respect in which the 
red men held the general, and in closing said : 

" No foreign invader will ever set foot on these shores as 
I long as General Miles is at the head of the army. If they 
i should — just call on me ! " 

The speaker sat down amid laughter and applause. 

While Will was away at the seat of war, his beautiful home 
in North Platte — " Welcome Wigwam" — burned to the 
ground. The little city is not equipped with much of a fire 
department, but a volunteer brigade held the flames in check 
long enough to save almost the entire contents of the house, 
among which were many valuable and costly souvenirs that could 
never be replaced. 






l^} 



-S""^ 



* -X:' 















Ov "r*'.-;* 



tAST OF THE GREAT vSCOUTS. 24 1 

Will received a telegram announcing that his house was 
ablaze, and his reply was characteristic : 

^^ Save Rosa Bonheiir's picture and the house may go to 
blazes r 

When the frontier war was ended and the troops disbanded 
Will made application for another company of Indians to take 
back to Europe with him. Permission was obtained from the 
government, and the contingent from the friendly tribes was 
headed by chiefs named Long Wolf, No Neck, Yankton 
Charlie and Black Heart. In addition to these a company was 
recruited from among the Indians held as hostages by General 
Miles at Fort Sheridan, and the leaders of these hostile braves 
were such noted chiefs as Short Bull, Kicking Bear, Lone Bull, 
Scatter and Revenge. To these the trip to Alsace-Lorraine 
was a revelation, a fairy tale more wonderful than anything 
in their legendary lore. The ocean voyage, with its seasick- 
ness, put them in an ugly mood, but the sight of the encamp- 
ment aud the cowboys dissipated their sullenness, and they 
shortly felt at home. The hospitality extended to all the 
members of the company by the inhabitants of the village 
in which they wintered was most cordial, and left them the 
pleasantest of memories. 

Will's knowledge of Indian nature stands him in good stead 
when he desires to select the quota of Indians for the summer 
season of the Wild West. He sends word ahead to the tribe 
or reservation which he intends to visit. The red men have all 
heard of the wonders of the great show, they are more than 
ready to share in the delights of travel, and they gather at the 
appointed place in great numbers. 

Will stands on a temporary platform in the centre of the 
group. He looks around upon the swarthy faces, glowing 
with all the eagerness which the stolid Indian nature will per- 
mit them to display. It is not always the tallest nor the most 
comely men who are selected. The unerring judgment of the 
scout, trained in Indian warfare, tells him who may be relied 
upon and who are untrustworthy. A face arrests his attentionj 



242 LAST OF THR GREAT SCOUTS. 

with a motion of his hand he indicates the brave whom he has 
selected; another wave of the hand and the fate of a second 
warrior is settled. Hardl}^ a word is spoken, and it is only a 
matter of a few moments' time before he is ready to step down 
from hi;i exalted position and walk off with his full contingent 
of warriors following happily in his wake. 

An extended tonr of Europe was fittingly closed by a brief 
visit to England. The Britons gave the Wild West as hearty 
a welcome as if it were native to their heath. A number of 
the larger cities were visited, London being reserved for the 
last. 

Royalty again honored the show by its attendance, the 
Queen requesting a special performance on the grounds of 
Windsor Castle. The requests of the Queen are equivalent to 
commands, and the entertainment was duly given. Asa token 
of her appreciation the Queen bestowed upon Will a costly and 
beautiful souvenir. 

Not the least esteemed remembrance of this London visit was 
an illuminated address presented by the English Working- 
man's Convention. In it the American plainsman was con- 
gratulated upon the honors he had won, the success he had 
achieved, and the educational worth of the great show. A 
banquet followed, at which Will presented an autograph 
photograph to each member of the association. 

Notwithstanding tender thoughts of home, English soil was 
left regretfully. To the Wild West show the complacent 
Briton had extended a cordial welcome, and manifested an 
enthusiasm that contrasted strangely with his usual disdain for 
things American. 

A singular coincidence of the homeward voyage was the 
death of Billy, another favorite horse of Will's, who gave up 
existence just at the moment of landing. 



CHAPTER XXX. 



A THOUSAND MILKS IN THE SADDLE WITH " BUFFALO BILV ' — 
"THE GARDEN OF THE GODS" — PREPARATIONS FOR THE 
world's fair — "THE CONGRESS OF ROUGH RIDERs" — 
NEWSPAPER ENTERPRISE IN DULUTH — CODY SANATORIUM. 

UROPEAN army officers of all 
nationalities regarded my 
brother with admiring interest. 
To German, French, Italian, 
or British eyes, he was a com- 
manding personglity, and also 
the representative of a peculiar 
and interesting phase of new- 
world life. Recalling their in- 
terest in his scenes from his 
native land, so unlike anything 
to be found in Europe to-day. 
Will invited a number of these 
officers to accompany him on 
an extended hunting trip through Western America. 

All that could possibly do so accepted the invitation. A 
date was set for them to reach Chicago, and from there 
arrangements were made for a special train to convey them to ^ 
Nebraska. 

When the party gathered several prominent Americans were 
of the number. By General Miles' s order a military escort 
attended them from Chicago, as he wished to honor the visit- 
ors from foreign lands, and the native soldiery remained with 
them until North Platte was reached. 

A new and handsome residence had been erected by Will to 
take the place of the one burned the preceding year, but the 

243 




244 T.AST OF THE GREAT SCOLiTS. 

party proceeded to "Scout's Rest Ranch," where they were 
hospitably entertained for a couple of days before starting out 
on their long trail. 

At Denver ammunition and supplies were taken on board 
the train. A French chef was also engaged, as Will feared 
his distinguished guests might not enjoy camp fare. But a 
hen in water is no more out of place than a French cook on a 
' ' roughing it ' ' trip. Frontier cooks, who understand primi- 
tive methods, make no attempt at a fashionable cuisine, and 
the appetites developed by open-air life are equal to the rudest, 
most substantial fare. 

Colorado Springs, the Garden of the Gods, and other places 
in Colorado were visited. The foreign visitors had heard 
stories of this wonderland of America, but, like all of nature's 
masterpieces, the rugged beauties of this magnificent region 
defy an adequate description. Only one who has seen the love- 
liness of a sunrise on the Alps can appreciate it. The storied 
Rhine is naught but a story to him who has never looked upon 
it. Niagara is only a waterfall until seen from various view- 
points and its tremendous force and transcendent beauty are 
strikingly revealed. The same is true of the glorious wildness 
of our Western scenery ; it must be seen to be appreciated. 

The most beautiful thing about the Garden of the Gods is 
the entrance known as the Gateway. Color here runs riot. 
The mass of rock in the foreground is white, and stands out in 
sharp contrast to the rich red of the sandstone of the portals, 
which rise on either side to a height of three hundred feet. 
Through these giant portals, which in the sunlight glow with 
ruddy fire, is seen mass upon mass of gorgeous color, rendered 
more striking by the dazzling whiteness of Pike's Peak, which 
soars upward in the distance, a hoary sentinel of the skies. 
The whole picture is limned against the brilliant blue of the 
Colorado sky, and stands out sharp and clear, one vivid block 
of color distinctly defined against the other. 

The name " Garden of the Gods" was doubtless applied be- 
cause of the peculiar shape of the spires, needles and basilicas 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 245 

of rock that rise in every direction. These have been corroded 
by storms and worn smooth by time, until they present the 
appearance of half-baked images of clay moulded by human 
hands, instead of sandstone rocks fashioned by wind and 
weather. Each grotesque and fantastic shape has received a 
name. One is here introduced to the " Washerwoman," the 
" Lady of the Garden," the " Siamese Twins " and the " Ute 
God," and besides these may be seen the "Wreck," the 
' ' Baggage Room, ' ' the " Eagle ' ' and the ' ' Mushroom. ' ' The 
predominating tone is everywhere red, but black, brown, drab, 
white, yellow, buff and pink rocks add their quota to make up 
a harmonious and striking color scheme, to which the grey and 
green of clinging mosses add a final touch of picturesqueness. 

At Flagstaff, Arizona, the train was discarded for the saddle 
and the buckboard. And now Will felt himself quite in his 
element ; it was a never-failing pleasure to him to guide a 
large party of guests over plain and mountain. From long 
experience he knew how to make ample provision for their 
comfort. There were a number of wagons filled with supplies, 
three buckboards, three ambulances and a drove of ponies. 
Those that wished to ride horseback could do so ; if they grew 
tired of a "bucking broncho," opportunity for rest awaited 
them in ambulance or buckboard. The French chef found his 
occupation gone when it was a question of cooking over a 
camp fire; his principal business lay in picking himself up 
when his broncho threw him down. The daintiness of his 
menu was not a correct gage for the daintiness of his language 
on these numerous occasions. 

Through the Grand Canon of the Colorado Will led the party, 
and the dwellers of the old world beheld some of the rugged 
magnificence of the new. Across rushing rivers, through 
quiet valleys and over lofty mountains they proceeded, paus- 
ing on the borders of peaceful lakes, or looking over dizzy 
precipices into yawning chasms. 

There was no lack of game to furnish variety to their table; 
mountain sheep, mountain lions, wild cats, deer, elk, antelope, 



246 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

and even coyotes and porcupines were shot, while the rivers 
furnished an abundance of fish. 

It seemed likely at one time that there might be a hunt of 
bigger game than any here mentioned, for in crossing the 
country of the Navajoes the party was watched and followed 
by mounted Indians. An attack was feared, and had the red 
men opened fire there v/ould have been a very animated de- 
fense, but the suspicious Indians were merely on the alert to 
see that no trespass was committed, and when the orderly com- 
pany passed out of their territory the warriors disappeared. 

The visitors were much impressed with the vastness and the 
undeveloped resources of our country. They were also im- 
pressed with the climate, as the thermometer went down to 40° 
below zero while they were on Buckskin Mountain. Nature 
seemed to wish to aid Will in the effort to exhibit novelties to 
his foreign guests, for she tried her hand at some spectacular 
effects, and succeeded beyond mortal expectation. She treated 
them to a few blizzards, and shut in by the mass of whirling, 
blinding snowflakes, it is possible their thoughts reverted with 
a homesick longing to the sunny slopes of France, the placid 
vales of Germany, or the foggy mildness of Great Britain. 

On the summit of San Francisco Mountain, the horse of 
Major St. John Mildmay lost its footing, and began to slip on 
the ice toward a precipice M'hich looked down a couple of 
thousand feet. Will saw the danger, brought out his ever- 
ready lasso, and dexterously caught the animal in time to save 
it and its rider — a feat considered remarkable by the onlookers. 

Accidents happened occasionally, many adventures were 
met with, Indian alarms were given, and narrow were some of 
the escapes. On the whole, it was a remarkable trail, and was 
written about under the heading, ' ' A Thousand Miles in the 
Saddle with Buffalo Bill." 

At Salt Lake City the party broke up, each going his 
separate way. All expressed great pleasure in the trip, and 
united in the opinion that Buffalo Bill's reputation as guide 
and scout was a well deserved one. 



LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS. 247 

The Wild West had already engaged space just outside the 
World's Fair grounds for an exhibit in 1893, and Will was 
desirous of introducing some new and striking feature. He 
had succeeded in presenting to the people of Europe some new 
ideas, and, in return, the European trip had furnished to him 
the much desired novelty. He had performed the work of an 
educator in showing to old-world residents the conditions of a 
new civilization, and the idea was now conceived of showing 
to the world gathered at the arena in Chicago a representation 
of the cosmopolitan military force. He called it "A Congress 
of the Rough Riders of the World. " It is a combination at once 
ethnological and military. 

To the Indians and cowboys were added Mexicans, Cossacks 
and South Americans, with regular trained cavalry from Ger- 
many, France, England and the United States. This aggre- 
gation showed for the first time in 1893, and was an instan- 
taneous success. Of it Opie Read gives a fine description : 

' ' Morse made the two worlds touch the tips of their fingers 
together. Cody has made the warriors of all nations join 
hands. 

' ' In one act we see the Indian, with his origin shrouded in 
history's mysterious fog; the cowboy — nerve-strung product 
of the new world ; the American soldier, the dark Mexican, the 
glittering soldier of Germany, the dashing cavalryman of 
France, the impulsive Irish dragoon, and that strange, swift 
spirit from the plains of Russia, the Cossack. 

' ' Marvelous theatric display — a drama with scarcely a word — • 
Europe, Asia, Africa, America in, panoramic whirl, and yet as 
individualized as if they had never left their own country." 

In 1893 the horizon of my brother's interests enlarged. In 
July of that year, the writer was married to Mr. Hugh A. 
Wetmore, editor of the Duluih Press. My steps now turned 
to the north, and the enterprising young city on the shore of 
Lake Superior became my home. During the long years of my 
widowhood my brother always bore toward me the attitude 
of guardian and protector ; I could rely upon his support in 
any venture I deemed a promising one, and his considerate 
thoughtfulness did not fail when I remarried. He wished to 



248 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

see me well established in my new home ; he desired to ensure 
my happiness and prosperity, and with this end in view he 
purchased the Dtihith Press plant, erected a fine brick building 
to serve as headquarters for the newspaper venture, and we 
became business partners in the untried field of press- work. 

The business bade fair to be a prosperous one. We invited 
my brother to make Duluth a visit, and look over his business 
interests. He timed his trip to give us a New Year's call. 
General invitations were issued to the business people at large 
and the many new acquaintances we had made in Duluth, and 
several hundred friends outside the city were also asked to meet 
the business manager of the Duhith Press at a New Year's 
reception. The response was of the genuine Western kind, 
fully eighteen hundred people being present during the 
evening. The building was thronged with those who wished 
to see the guest of honor and bid him welcome to Duluth. 

We were encouraged by the success of the business venture 
on which we had entered, for my faith in the future greatness 
of Duluth was, and is, unbounded. I induced my brother to 
still further invest in the Zenith City. Property was purchased 
on an eminence overlooking St. Louis Bay, and the institution 
known as the Cody Sanatorium was built and furnished in 1896. 
This building was finely situated in one of the most healthful 
and picturesque locations anywhere to be found, and the enter- 
prise was self-supporting from the beginning. The added care 
and responsibility, however, proved too much for me, so it 
became necessary that some one take my place in the business 
management of the paper. 

At that time the Dtihdh Press was fairly on its feet, and 
showed a good financial standing. I considered it on a secure 
basis, and proposed to my brother that he take some one else 
in as partner in my place. Personally, Will had never at- 
tempted any supervision of this business, everything had been 
entrusted to my management. I retired from the publishing 
business in August of '97, and devoted my time and energie?^ 
toward permanently establishing a flourishing health resort. 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 249 

How this would have turned out we were not permitted to 
know, for on the 17th of November, 1897, the Sanatorium 
burned to the ground. There was only a small insurance on 
the property, and it was my sad lot to stand upon the hill-top, 
on a bitter winter's night, and witness thousands of my 
brother's hard earned money go up in smoke. 

The sun rose next morning on a changed scene. The even- 
ing before its setting rays fell upon an elegant and beautiful 
institute ; its morning beams lit up a mass of smoking, disfigur- 
ing ruins. No word of reproach or blame reached me from my 
brother ; only a message of sympathy and condolence flew over 
the wires to his luckless business partner. 

After being released from the cares incident to the Sanatorium 
work, I resumed the publishing business, in which we are now 
actively engaged. 

The next year Will erected a home for me upon the site 
where the health institute had stood. This beautiful home, 
provided by a brother's unselfish love, I have named Cody view, 
in honor of the donor. I may be prejudiced in its favor, but 
it commands a view so striking and magnificent that I cannot 
conceive anything more lovely on earth. 

Both my brother and myself are trailing toward the sunset 
of life. He expects and desires to see his life's star sink be- 
hind the far-off Rocky Mountains ; it is my wish to receive 
my summons on the mountain-top where my chosen home is 
situated. Some day those that come after me will be surrounded 
by stately homes, the suburban hill-top will have developed 
into a beautiful residence avenue, and not only will the dwellers 
in Cody view revel in the beauties of sky, lake and hill, but 
they will overlook a city which will be the metropolis of the 
Northwest. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

THK TENTED CITy" — AN INCIDENT IN A BOSTON HOSPITAL — 
THE WILD WEST VISITS NORTH PLATTE — CODY DAY AT 
THE OMAHA EXPOSITION — A REUNION OF PIONEERS. 

INCE 1893 the Wild West exhi- 
bitions have been restricted to 
the various cities of our own 
land. Life in "Buffalo Bill's 
Tented City," as it is called, 
is like life in a small village. 
There are some six hundred 
persons in the various depart- 
ments. Many of the men have 
their families with them; the 
Indians have their squaws and 
papooses, and the variety of 
nationalities, dialects and cos- 
tumes, makes the miniature city 
an interesting and entertaining one. 

The Indians may be seen eating bundles of meat from their 
fingers and drinking tankards of iced buttermilk. The Mexi- 
cans, a shade more civilized, shovel with their knives great 
quantities of the same food into the capacious receptacle pro- 
vided by nature. The Americans, despite what is said of their 
rapid eating, take time to laugh and crack jokes, and finish 
their repast with a product only known to the highest civiliza- 
tion — ice cream. 

Nate Salsbury had his young son with him during one sum- 
mer season. The boy tried to emulate the Indians in their 
vocal gymnastics, and the father endured it for a time in 
silence, but his patience became exhausted. 
250 




LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 251 

"If you don't stop that bawling, I'll punish you," he 
warned. 

The young hopeful paused long enough to reply: "All 
right, father ; you spank, and I'll yell like the Indians, just the 
same ! ' ' 

When the Wild West visited Boston one hot June day the 
parade passed a children's hospital on the way to the show- 
grounds. Many of the little invalids were unable to leave 
their couches. All who could do so ran to the open windows 
and gazed eagerly at the passing procession, and the greatest ex- 
citement prevailed. These more fortunate little ones described, 
as best they could, to the little sufferers who could not leave 
their beds the wonderful things they saw. The Indians were 
the special admiration of the children. After the procession 
passed, one wee lad, bed-ridden by spinal trouble, cried bit- 
terly because he had not seen it. A kind-hearted nurse en- 
deavored to soothe the child, but words proved unavailing. 
Then a bright idea struck the patient woman ; she told him he 
might write a letter to the great "Buffalo Bill" himself and 
ask him for an'Indian's picture. 

The idea was taken up with delight, and the child spent an 
eager hour in penning the letter. It was pathetic in its sim- 
plicity. The little sufferer told the great showman that he was 
sick in bed, was unable to see the Indians when they passed 
the hospital, and that he longed to see a photograph of one. 

The important missive was mailed, and even the impatient 
little invalid knew it was useless to expect an answer that day. 
The morning had hardly dawned before a child's bright eyes 
were open. Every noise was listened to, and he wondered 
when the postman would bring him a letter. The nurse 
hardly dared to hope that a busy man like Buffalo Bill would 
take time to respond to the wish of a sick child. 

" Colonel Cody is a very busy man," she said. " We must 
be patient." 

At perhaps the twentieth repetition of this remark the door 
opened noiselessly. In came a six-foot Indian, clad in leather 



252 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

trousers and wrapped in a scarlet blanket. He wore a head- 
dress of tall, waving feathers and carried his bow in his hand. 

The little invalids gasped in wonder; then they shrieked 
with delight. One by one, silent and noiseless, but smiling, 
six splendid warriors followed the first. The visitors had 
evidently been well-trained, and had received explicit direc- 
tions as to their actions. 

So unusual a sight in the orderly hospital so startled the 
nurse that she could not even speak. The warriors drew up 
in a line and saluted her. The happy children were shouting 
in such glee that the poor woman's fright was unnoticed. 

The Indians ranged themselves in the narrow space between 
the cots, laid aside their gay blankets, placed their bows upon 
the floor and, waving their arms to and fro, executed a quiet 
war dance. A sham battle was fought, followed by a song of 
victory. After this the blankets were again donned, the kindly 
red men went away, still smiling as benignly as their war paint 
would allow them to do. A cheer of gratitude and delight 
followed them down the broad corridors. The happy children 
talked about Buffalo Bill and the Wild West show for weeks 
after this visit. 

North Platte had long urged my brother to bring the show 
there. The citizens wished to see the mammoth tents spread 
over the ground where the scout once followed the trail on the 
actual war-path; they desired that their famous fellow-citizen 
should thus honor his home town. A performance was finally 
given there on October 12, 1896, the special car bearing Will 
and his party arriving the preceding day, Sunday. The writer 
of these chronicles joined the party in Omaha, and we left that 
city after the Saturday night performance. 

The Union Pacific Railroad had offered my brother every 
inducement to make this trip ; among other things, the oflScials 
promised to make special time in running from Omaha to 
North Platte. 

When we awoke Sunday morning we found that in some 
way the train had been delayed, that instead of making 



I,AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 353 

special time we were several hours late. Will telegraphed this 
fact to the officials. At the next station double-headers were 
put on, and the gain became at once perceptible. At Grand 
Island a congratulatory telegram was sent, noting the gain in 
time. At the next station we passed the lyightning Express, 
the " flyer," to which usually everything gives way, and the 
good faith of the company was evidenced by the fact that this 
train was side-tracked to make way for Buffalo Bill's Wild 
West train. Another message was sent over the wires to the 
officials ; it read as follows : 

" Have just noticed that I,ightning Express is side-tracked 
to make way for Wild West. I herewith promote you to top 
seat in heaven." 

The trip was a continued ovation. Every station was 
thronged, and Will was obliged to step out on the platform 
and make a bow to the assembled crowds, his appearance being 
invariably greeted with a round of cheers. When we reached 
the station at North Platte we found that the entire population 
had turned out to receive their fellow-townsman . The ' ' Cody 
Guards," a baud to which Will presented beautiful uniforms 
of white broadcloth trimmed with gold braid, struck up the 
strains of ' ' See the Conquering Hero Comes. ' ' The mayor 
attempted to do the welcoming honors of the city, but it was 
impossible for him to make himself heard. Cheer followed 
cheer from the enthusiastic crowd. 

We had expected to reach the place some hours earlier, but 
our late arrival encroached upon the hour of church service. 
The ministers discovered that it was impossible to hold 
their congregations, so they were dismissed and the pastors 
accompanied them to the station, one reverend gentleman hu- 
morously remarking : 

' ' We shall be obliged to take for our text this morning, 
' Buffalo Bill and his Wild West Show,' and will now proceed 
to the station for the discourse. ' ' 

Will's tally-ho coach, drawn by six horses, was in waiting 
for the incoming party. The members of his family seated 



254 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

themselves in that conveyance, and we passed through the 
town preceded and followed by a band. As we debarked at 
the home residence both bands united in a welcoming strain of 
martial music. 

My oldest sister, Julia, whose husband is manager of 
" Scout's Rest Ranch," when informed that the Wild West 
was to visit North Platte, conceived the idea of making this 
visit the occasion of a family reunion. We had never met in 
an unbroken circle since the days of our first separation, but, 
as a result of her efforts, we sat thus that evening in my broth- 
er's home. The next day our mother-sister, as she had always 
been regarded, entertained us at "Scout's Rest Ranch." 
Only one thing marred the pleasure of this gathering. Sister 
May, the j'oungest of the family, was married in 1872 to Mr. 
E- C. Bradford. She met her own family for the first time 
since her husband's death, which occurred in California, 
whither he had gone in the vain pursuit of health, and as her 
bereavement was very recent, her heavy mourning cast the 
only shadow on an otherwise happy scene. 

The Wild West show had visited Duluth for the first time 
that same year. This city has a population of 65,000. North 
Platte numbers 3,500. When he wrote to me of his intention 
to take the Wild West show to Duluth, Will offered to make a 
wager that his own little town would furnish a bigger crowd 
than would the city of my residence. I could not accept any 
such inferred slur upon the Zenith City, so accepted the wager, 
a silk hat against a fur cloak. 

October 12th, the date of the North Platte perform- 
ance, dawned bright and cloudless. " To-day decides 
our wager," said Will. " I expect there will be two or three 
dozen people out on this prairie. Duluth turned out a good 
many thousands, so I suppose you think your wager as good 
as won." 

The manager of the tents evidently thought the outlook a 
forlorn one. I shared his opinion and was, in fancy, already 
the possessor of a fine fur cloak. 



LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 255 

" Colonel, shall we stretch the full canvas?" asked the tent 
man. 

" Every inch of it," was the prompt response. " We want 
to show North Platte the capacity of the Wild West, at any 
rate." 

As we started for the grounds Will was evidently uncertain 
over the outcome, in spite of his previous boast of the reception 
North Platte would give him. "We'll have a big tent and 
plenty of room to spare in it , " he observed. 

But as we drove to the grounds we soon began to see indi- 
cations of a coming crowd. The people were pouring in from 
all directions; the very atmosphere seemed populated; as the 
dust was nearly a foot deep on the roads, the moving popu- 
lace made the air almost too thick for breathing. It was dur- 
ing the time of the county fair, and managers of the Union 
Pacific road announced that excursion trains would be run from 
every town and hamlet, the officials and their families coming 
up from Omaha on a special car. Where the crowds came 
from it was impossible to say. It looked as if a feat of magic 
had been performed, and that the stones were turned into men, 
or, perchance, that, as in olden tales, they came up out of the 
earth. 

Accustomed though he is to the success of the show, Will 
was dumbfounded by this attendance. As the crowds poured in 
I became alarmed about my wager. I visited the ticket-seller 
and asked how the matter stood. 

"It's pretty close," he answered. " Duluth seems to be 
dwindling away before the mightiness of the great American 
Desert." 

This section of the country, which was a wilderness only a 
few years ago, assembled over ten thousand people to attend a 
performance of the Wild West show. 

Omaha, where the opening performance of this exhibition 
was given, honored Will last year by setting apart one day as 
' ' Cody Day. ' ' August 3 ist was devoted to his reception , and a 
large and enthusiastic cro-vd gathered to do the Nebraska 



256 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

pioneer honor. The parade reached the fair grounds at eleven 
o'clock, where it was fittingly received by one hundred and 
fifty mounted Indians from the encampment. A large square 
space had been reserved for the reception of the party in front 
of the Sherman gate. As it filed through great applause was 
sent up by the waiting multitude, and the noise became deaf- 
ening when my brother made his appearance on a magnificent 
chestnut horse — the gift of General Miles. He was accompanied 
by a large party of ofiicials and Nebraska pioneers, who dis- 
mounted to seat themselves on the grand stand. Prominent 
among these were the governor of the state. Senator Thurston, 
and Will's old friend and first employer, Mr. Alexander Majors. 
As Will ascended the platform he was met by General Manager 
Clarkson, who welcomed him in the name of the president of 
the exposition, whose official duties precluded his presence. 
Governor Holcomb was then introduced, and his speech was 
a brief review of the evolution of Nebraska from a wilderness 
of a generation ago to the great state which produced this 
marvelous exposition. Manager Clarkson remarked, as he 
introduced Mr. Majors, " Here is the father of them all, Alex- 
ander Majors ; a man connected with the very earliest history 
of Nebraska, and the business father of Colonel Cody." 

This old pioneer was accorded a reception only a shade less 
enthusiastic than that which greeted the hero of the day. He 
said : 

" Gentlemen, and my boy, Colonel Cody ! (Laughter.) Can 
I say a few words of welcome. Friend Creighton and I came 
down here together to-day and he thought I was not equal to 
the occasion. Gentlemen, I do not know whether I am equal 
to the occasion at this time, but lam going to do the best for you 
that I can. Give me your hand, Colonel. Gentlemen, forty- 
three years ago this day, this fine looking physical specimen of 
manhood was brought to me by his mother — a little boy nine 
years old — and little did I think at that time that the boy that 
was standing before me, asking for employment of some kind 
by which I could afford to pay his mother a little money for 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 257 

his services, was going to be a boy of such destiny as he has 
turned out to be. In this country we have great men, we have 
great men in Washington, we have men who are famous as 
politicians in this country ; we have great statesmen, we have 
had Jackson and Grant, and we had Lincoln ; we have men 
great in agriculture and in stock growing, and in the manu- 
facturing business men who have made great names for them- 
selves, who have stood high in the nation ; we have had Barnum 
in the show business. Next, and even greater and higher, we 
have had a Cody. He, gentlemen, stands now at the head of 
the showmen of the United States of America, and of the 
world. When the boy Cody came to me, standing straight as 
an arrow, and looked me in the face, I said to my partner, 
'We will take this little boy' — Mr. Russell was standing by 
my side — * and we will pay him a man's wages because he can 
ride a pony just as well as a man can. ' He was lighter and 
could do service of that kind when he was nine years old. I 
remember when we paid him $25 for the first month's work. 
He was paid in half-dollars and he got fifty of them. He tied 
them up in his little handkerchief, and when he got home he 
untied the handkerchief and spread the money all over the 
table." 

Colonel Cody — " I have been spreading it ever since." 
A few remarks followed indicative of Mr. Majors's appreci- 
ation of the exhibition, and he closed with the remark : ' ' Bless 
your precious heart, Colonel Cody! " and sat down amid great 
applause. 

Senator Thurston's remarks were equally happy. He said : 
"Colonel Cody, this is your day. This is your exposition. * 
This is your city. And we all rejoice that Nebraska is your 
state. You have carried the fame of our country and of our 
state all over the civilized world; you have been received and 
honored by princes, by emperors and by kings; the titled 
women in the courts of the nations of the world have been 
captivated by your charm of manner and your splendid man- 
hood. You are known wherever you go, abroad or in the 



258 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

United States, as Colonel Cody, the best representative of the 
great and progressive West. You stand here to-day in the 
midst of a wonderful assembly. Here are representatives of 
the heroic and daring characters of most of the nations of the 
world. You are entitled to the honor paid you to-day, and 
especially entitled to it here. This people know you as a man 
who has carried this demonstration of yours to foreign lands, 
and exhibited it at home. You have not been a showman in the 
common sense of the word. You have been a great national and 
international educator of men. You have furnished a demon- 
stration of the possibilities of our country that has advanced 
us in the opinion of all the world. But we who have been 
with you a third, or more than a third of a century, we re- 
member you more dearly and tenderly than others do. We 
remember that when this whole Western land was a wilderness, 
when these representatives of the aborigines were attempting 
to hold their own against the onward tide of civilization, the 
settler and the hardy pioneer, the vv^omen and the children, felt 
safe whenever Cody rode along the frontier; he was their pro- 
tector and defender. 

" Cody, this is your home. You live in the hearts of the 
people of our state. God bless you, and keep you and prosper 
you in your splendid work." 

Will was deeply touched by these strong expressions from 
his friends. As he moved to the front of the platform to re- 
spond his appearance was the signal for a prolonged burst of 
cheers. He said : 

" You cannot expect me to make adequate response for the 
honor which you have bestowed upon me to-day. You have 
overwhelmed my speaking faculties. I cannot corral enough 
ideas to attempt a coherent reply in response to the honor 
which you have accorded me. How little I dreamed in the 
long ago that the lonely path of the scout and the pony ex- 
press rider would lead me to the place you have assigned me 
to-day. Here, near the banks of the mighty Missouri, which 
flows uuvexed to the sea, my thoughts revert to the early days 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 259 

of my manhood. I looked eastward across this rushing tide to 
the Atlantic, and dreamed that in that long-settled region all 
men were rich and all women happy. My friends, that day 
has come and gone. I stand among you a witness that nowhere 
in the broad universe are men richer in manly integrity, and 
women happier in their domestic kingdom, than here in our 
own Nebraska. 

" I have sought fortune in many lands, but wherever I have 
wandered, the flag of our beloved state has been unfurled to 
every breeze; from the Platte to the Danube, from the Tiber 
to the Clyde, the emblem of our sovereign state has always 
floated over the Wild West. Time goes on and brings with it 
new duties and responsibilities, but we ' old men,' we who are 
called old-timers, cannot forget the trials and tribulations 
which we had to encounter while paving the path for civiliza- 
tion and national prosperity. 

' ' The whistle of the locomotive has drowned the howl of 
the coyote ; the barb-wire fence has narrowed the range of the 
cow-puncher ; but no material evidence of prosperity can ob- 
literate our contribution to Nebraska's imperial progress. 

' ' Through your kindness to-day I have tasted the sweetest 
fruit that grows on ambition's tree. If you extend your kind- 
ness and permit me to fall back into the ranks as a high pri- 
vate, my cup will be full. 

" In closing, let me call upon the Wild West, the Congress 
of Rough Riders of the World, to voice their appreciation of 
the kindness you have shown them to-day." 

At a given signal the Wild West gave three ringing cheers for 
Nebraska and the trans- Mississippi exposition. The cowboy 
band followed with the * ' Red, White and Blue, ' ' and an exposi- 
tion band responded with the " Star Spangled Banner." The 
company fell into line for a parade around the grounds, Colonel 
Cody following on his chestnut horse, Duke. After him came the 
ofiScials and invited guests in carriages, then came the Cossacks, 
the Cubans, the German cavalry, the United States cavalry, 
the Mexicans, and representatives of twenty-five countries. 



26o LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

As the parade neared its end my brother turned to his 
friends and suggested that as they had been detained long past 
the dinner hour in doing him honor, he would like to compen- 
sate them by giving an informal spread. This invitation was 
promptly accepted, and the company adjourned to a cafe, 
where a tempting luncheon was spread before them. Never 
before had such a party of pioneers met around a banquet 
table, and many were the reminiscences of early days brought 
out. Mr. Majors, the originator of the pony express line, was 
there. The two Creighton brothers, who put through the first 
telegraph line, and took the occupation of the express riders 
from them, had seats of honor. A. D. Jones was introduced as 
the man who carried the first post-ofl&ce of Omaha around in 
his hat, and who still wore the hat. Numbers of other pio- 
neers were there, and each contributed his share of racy anec- 
dotes and pleasant reminiscences. 

The new feature of 1898 was the band of Cuban riders. It 
will tax even my brother's ingenuity to find a new and start- 
ling innovation for the Paris Exposition. 

Since the above was written and as this volume is going to 
press, March 29, 1899, the arrival at Madison Square Garden, 
New York City, is announced of native delegations from Porto 
Rico, the Sandwich Islands and the Philippine Islands, to 
markedly enhance the ethnological and equestrian attractions 
of " Buffalo Bill's Wild West." 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE TAMING OF THE WILD WEST — GRASS-GROWN TRAITS 
AND HOARY LANDMARKS — THE TRAILS OF STEEL — OLD 
AND NEW MODES OF TRAVEL CONTRASTED — THE BUF- 
FALO — THE INDIAN — THE "LAST OF THE SCOUTS." 

DOMINION OF CANADA HE story of frontier days is a tale 

that is told. The Wild West 
has vanished like mist in the 
sun before the touch of the 
two great magicians of the 
nineteenth century — steam and 
electricity. 

The route of the old historic 
Santa Fe trail is nearly fol- 
lowed by the Atchison, To- 
peka & Santa Fe Railroad, 
which was completed in 1880. 
The silence of the prairie was 
once broken by the wild war- 
whoop of the Indian as he struggled to maintain his supremacy 
over some adjoining tribe; the muffled roar caused by the 
heavy hoof-beats of thousands of buffaloes was almost the only 
other sound that broke the stillness. To-day the shriek of 
the engine, the clang of the bell and the clatter of the car 
wheels form a ceaseless accompaniment to the cheerful hum of 
busy life, which everywhere pervades the wilderness of thirty 
years ago. Almost the only memorials of the struggles and 
privations of the hardy trappers and explorers, whose daring 
courage made the achievements of the present possible, are the 
historic landmarks which bear the names of some of these brave 
men. But these are very few in number. Pike's Peak lifts 

261 




262 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

its snowy head to heaven in silent commemoration of the early 
traveler whose name it bears. Simpson's Rest, a lofty obelisk, 
commemorates the mountaineer whose life was for the most part 
passed upon its rugged slopes, and whose last request was that 
he should be buried on its summit. Another cloud-capped 
mountain height bears the name of Fisher's Peak, and thereby 
hangs a tale. 

Captain Fisher commanded a battery in the army engaged 
in the conquest of New Mexico. His command encamped 
near the base of the mountain which now bears his name. 
Deceived by the illusive effect of the atmosphere, he started out 
for a morning stroll to the supposed near-by elevation, an- 
nouncing that he would return in time for breakfast. The 
day passed with no sign of Captain Fisher, and night length- 
ened into a new day. When the second day passed without 
his return, his command was forced to believe that he had fal- 
len a prey to lurking Indians, and the soldiers were sadly tak- 
ing their seats for their evening meal when the haggard and 
wearied captain put in an appearance. His morning stroll had 
occupied two days and a night, but he set out to visit the 
mountain and he did it. 

The trans-continental line which supplanted the Old Salt 
lyake Trail, and is now known as the Union Pacific Railroad, 
antedated the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe by eleven years. 
The story of the difficulties encountered, and the obstacles over- 
come in the building of this road, furnishes greater marvels 
than any narrated in the Arabian Nights' Tales. 

This railroad superseded the Pony Express Line, the reek- 
ing, panting horses of which used their utmost endeavor and 
carried their tireless riders fifteen miles an hour, covering their 
circuit in eight days' time at their swiftest rate of speed. The 
iron horse gives a sniff of disdain and easily traverses the same 
distance, from the Missouri line to the Pacific Coast, in three 
days. 

Travelers who step aboard the swiftly-moving luxurious cars 
of to-day, give little thought to their predecessors ; for the 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 263 

dangers the early voyagers encountered they have no sympathy. 
The traveler in the stage-coach was be.set by perils without from 
the Indians and the outlaws ; he faced the equally unpleasant 
companionship of fatigue and discomfort within. The jolting, 
swinging coach bounced and jounced the unhappy passengers 
as the reckless driver lashed the flying horses. Away they 
galloped over mountains and through ravines, with no cessation 
of speed. Even the shipper pays the low rate of transportation 
asked to-day with reluctance, and forgets the great debt he 
owes this adjunct of our civilization. 

But, great as are the practical benefits derived from the rail- 
ways, we cannot repress a sigh as we meditate on the pictureque 
phases of the vanished era. Gone are the bull-whackers and 
the prairie schooners! Gone are the stage-coaches and their 
drivers! Gone are the Pony Express riders! Gone are the 
trappers, the hardy pioneers, the explorers and the scouts! 
Gone is the prairie monarch, the shaggy, unkempt buffalo ! 

In 1869, only thirty years ago, the train on the Kansas Pa- 
cific road was delayed eight hours in consequence of the 
passage of an enormous herd of buffaloes over the track in 
front of it. But the easy mode of travel introduced by the 
railroad brought hundreds of sportsmen to the plains, who 
wantonly killed this noble animal solely for sport, and thou- 
sands of buffaloes were sacrificed for their skins, for which there 
was a wide-spread demand. From 1868 to 1881, in Kansas 
alone, there was paid out $2,500,000 for the bones of this ani- 
mal, which were gathered up on the prairie and used in the 
carbon works of the country. This represents a total death 
rate of 31,000,000 of buffaloes in one state. As far as I am 
able to ascertain, there remains at this writing only one herd, 
of less than twenty animals, out of all the countless thousands 
that roamed the prairie so short a time ago, and this herd is 
carefully preserved in a private park. There may be a few 
isolated specimens in menageries and shows, but this whole- 
sale slaughter has resulted in the practical extermination of 
the species. 



264 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 

As with the animal native to our prairies, so has it been 
with the race native to our land. We may deplore the wrongs 
of the Indian and sympathize with his efforts to wrest justice 
from his so-called protectors. We may admire his poetic na- 
ture, as evidenced in the myths and legends of the race. We 
may be impressed by the stately dignity, and innate ability as 
orator and statesman, which he displays. We may preserve 
the different articles of his picturesque garb as relics. But the 
old, old drama of history is repeating itself before the eyes of 
this generation ; the inferior must give way to the superior 
civilization. The poetic, picturesque, primitive red man must 
inevitably succumb before the all-conquering tread of his 
pitiless, practical, progressive white brother. 

Cooper has immortalized for us the extinction of a people in 
the ' ' Last of the Mohicans. ' ' Many another tribe has passed 
away, unhonored and unsung. Westward the " Star of Em- 
pire" takes its way; the great domain west of the Mississippi 
is now peopled by the white race, while the Indians are shut 
up in reservations. Their doom is sealed ; their sun is set. 
' ' Kismet ' ' has been spoken of them ; the total extinction of 
the race is only a question of time. In the words of Rudyard 
Kipling : 

• ' Take up the White Man 's burden — 

Ye dare not stoop to less — 
Nor call too loud on freedom 

To cloke your weariness. 
By all ye will or whisper, 

By all ye leave or do, 
The silent, sullen peoples 

Shall weigh your God and you. " 

Of this past epoch of our national life there remains but one 
well-known representative. That one is my brother. He oc- 
cupies a unique place in the portrait gallery of famous Ameri- 
cans to-day. It is not alone his commanding personality, nor 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 265 

the success he has achieved along various Hues, which gives 
him the strong hold he has on the hearts of the American peo- 
ple, or the absorbing interest he possesses in the eyes of 
foreigners. The fact that in his own person he condenses a 
period of national history is a large factor in the fascination he 
exercises over others. He may fitly be named the " I,ast of 
the Great Scouts." He has had great predecessors. The 
mantle of Kit Carson has fallen upon his shoulders, and he 
wears it worthily. He has not, and never can have a succes- 
sor. He is the vanishing point between the rugged wilderness 
of the past in Western life and the vast achievement in the 
present. 

He expects to spend one more year in this country ; then he 
will close his career as exhibitor at the Paris Exposition, with 
the closing year of the century. With the disbanding of the 
Wild West company the last vestige of our frontier life passes 
away from the scene of active realities, and becomes a matter 
of history. 

" lyife is real, life is earnest," sings the poet, and real and 
earnest it has been for my brother. It has been spent in 
others' service. I cannot recall a time when he has not thus 
been laden with heavy burdens. Yet for himself he has won a 
reputation, national and international. A naval officer visiting in 
China relates that as he stepped ashore he was offered tvv'O 
books for purchase — one the Bible, the other a " I^ife of Buf- 
falo Bill." 

For nearly half a century, which comprises his childhood, 
youth and manhood, my brother has been before the public. 
He can scarcely be said to have had a childhood, so early was 
he thrust among the rough scenes of frontier life, therein to 
play a man's part at an age when most boys think of nothing 
more than marbles and tops. He enlisted in the Union Army 
before he was of age, and did his share in upholding the flag 
during the civil war as ably as many a veteran of forty, and 
since then he has remained, for the most part, in his country's 
service, always ready to go to the front in any time of danger. 



266 LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 

He has achieved distinction in many and various ways. He is 
president of the largest irrigation enterprise in the world, 
president of a colonization company, of a town-site company, 
and of two transportation companies. He is the foremost scout 
and champion buffalo hunter of America, one of the crack 
shots of the world, and its greatest popular entertainer. He is 
broad-minded and progressive in his views, inheriting from both 
father and mother a hatred of oppression in any form. Taking 
his mother as a standard, he believes the franchise is a birth- 
right which should appertain to intelligence and education, 
rather than to sex. It is his public career that lends an 
interest to his private life, in which he has been a devoted 
and faithful son and brother, a kind and considerate husband, 
a loving and generous father. ' ' Only the names of them that 
are upright, brave and true can be honorably known," were 
the mother's dying words, and honorably known has his name 
become, in his own country and across the sea. 

With the fondest expectation he looks forward to the hour 
when he shall make his final bow to the public and retire to 
private life. It is his long-cherished desire to devote his re- 
maining years to the development of the Big Horn Basin, in 
Wyoming, He has visited every country in Europe, and has 
looked upon the most beautiful of old-world scenes. He is 
familiar with all the most splendid regions of his own land, 
but to him this new El Dorado of the West is the fairest spot 
on earth. 

He has already invested thousands of dollars and given 
much thought and attention toward the accomphshment of his 
pet scheme. An irrigating ditch costing nearly a million dol- 
lars now waters this fertile region, and various other improve- 
ments are under way, to prepare a land flowing with milk and 
honey for the reception of thousands of homeless wanderers. 
Like the children of Israel, these would never reach the prom- 
ised land but for the untiring efforts of a Moses to go on be- 
fore, but unlike the ancient guide and scout of sacred history, 
my brother has been privileged to penetrate the remotest cor- 



LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 267 

ner of his primitive land of Canaan. Tlie log cabin he has 
erected there is not unlike the one of our childhood days. Here 
he finds his haven of rest, his health resort, to which he 
hastens when the show season is over and he is free again for 
a space. He finds refreshment in the healthful, invigorating 
atmosphere of his chosen retreat ; he enjoys sweet solace from 
the cares of life under the influence of its magnificent 
scenery. 

And here, in the shadow of the Rockies, yet in the ver}' 
" light of things," it is his wish to finish his days as he began 
them, in opening up for those who come after him the great 
regions of the still undeveloped West, and in poring over the 
lesson learned as a boy on the plains : 

" That nature never did betray 
The heart that loved her. " 



The End. 



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